Happy New Year
by idioticonion
Summary: A set of stories following Barney from 31st Dec 2008. AU from Season 4, Little Minnesota. These stories draw heavily on darlingchaos's Alternative Universe over on livejournal but can be read as a stand-alone.
1. Inside His Head

**1. Wouldn't it be good?**

He sat there in McLaren's and he envied Robin. Yes, Barney envied her while she talked enthusiastically about her conquests, her "naked man", her love of Minnesota dudes, her shooting cans off roof tops. He knew where this all came from and he recognised it in her. He knew she was at the beginning of a journey, one that he'd been on a long, long time.

If only he were at the beginning of that journey.

But try as he might, he was slowly losing it. The battle against feelings was one that he could never win. They'd been inside him for months now and they were eating their way into every aspect of his life. The person he'd built up over so many years - the perfect, perfect shell, wrapped around his body until the skin beneath it had withered and died - that person was beginning to crack. He could feel himself moving (or was it the world moving under him?) and the conflict was killing him.

Wherever he was, he didn't want to be there any more.

Feelings… colouring every relationship he had - his work, his family, his friends… Lily had gotten under his skin and now she was treated him more like a brother than James ever did. She seemed to think it was her personal responsibility/crusade to look after him. And he was beginning to like it.

Robin… she didn't feel anything. She didn't even feel the cold. Whereas he felt _everything_ - the chill that seeped into his bones at night had driven him to buy pillows and comforters and blankets just so that he could wrap himself in layers of warmth. He felt the heat too - at work, in clubs, burning him up from the inside until he was clawing at his tie because he imagined it was choking him. The suit - that thing of beauty, that single piece of armour that protected him against all the horrors of the world - had finally turned against him.

And so he envied Robin and he tried to cling on by the tips of his fingers to the world that she now inhabited. But he was an old gunslinger now and soon, very soon, someone would come and put a bullet in his gut and it would be all over. He'd already drawn his pistol and he was sick of fighting.

How he wished he could stand with Robin, be with Robin and conquer the world by her side. He'd give anything to be able to turn back the clock.

**2. Bring on the dancing girls**

He hadn't even remembered that April worked there until she threw a drink in his face. He laughed, of course, and spun some elaborate story for Mr Yamamoto, embellishing the truth, playing with words like a master craftsman. The Japanese appreciated a good yarn and by the end of the meal they'd shaken on a deal that would bring both of their companies a great deal of money. April was, to all intents and purposes, forgotten.

The front of his shirt was still damp as they stepped out into the cold air. On a whim, he asked Mr Yamamoto if he'd like to accompany him to Rick's, which was a classier joint than the Lusty Leopard. It was New Year's Eve and everywhere else would be shut for private parties. Besides, he didn't feel very sociable. Barney got Yamamoto settled with lap dance from a statuesque blonde (Daisy) and took a stool by the stage.

He watched the girl taking her clothes off, eyes travelling over her body as each square inch of flesh was bared. He offered her a folded bill and tucking it expertly into the cleft of her buttocks, mechanically going through the motions. But he was lonely. He was tired. He was very, very bored by it all. He tried to distract himself, watching the girl gyrate, try and will himself out of this funk. But slowly, slowly, a kind of sickness crept over him. He put his head in his hands.

When a man is tired of strippers, he is tired of life.

A girl tapped him on the shoulders. "Hey, Barney?" She said. Her name was Sparkle, um… Michelle? Um… he had no idea what her name was!

"Hey, um…," He drawled, shrugging on his defences and not really understanding why. He felt a little panicked but he fought it down. He just needed something _new_. He was too jaded, that was all.

"Barney, honey. I'm finishing my shift and we were wondering…", she indicated two of the other girls, standing over by the bar, "if you'd like to join us for a New Year's nightcap?"

Barney stood up and let his autopilot take over, grinning his most charming grin as he rested his hand on her lower back and manoeuvred her through the crowded tables. "Ladies," he bowed taking each of their hands and kissing them in turn, playing the gentleman. "I'd love to join you on whatever adventures you've got planned for this evening." The Autopilot was judging them, one by one, trying to work out which one it would hit. The secret part inside of him that was sick of cold nights and sad days just needed something, even just for one night, to take his blues away.

"We thought we could all go back to your place?" Michelle said, hopefully.

"Bring it on…" He thought. Perhaps this old cowboy had one last showdown left in him.

**3. Shame on you**

The girls were dancing and one of them was dribbling scotch over her naked breasts. He let her skin warm it before licking it off, making her giggle. He loved the way her nipples bunched and hardened under his tongue.

The other two got jealous and demanded the same treatment. It was easy to switch off his brain and let his body do the talking. It was what it was good at, after all.

At one point, when two of the girls were naked and the other was well on the way, his phone rang. He left the bed and went rummaging for it, although he already knew from the tone who was ringing him. He frowned, absently, when he saw her name on the screen. It was… he checked his watch… three-thirty. Why was she ringing him? Why was she ringing him _now_?

He looked over at the three nubile girls, sprawled and laughing on his bed, then down at his phone. Trouble was, there was an ocean between him and Robin. He'd do anything for her. Anything. But if he tried to cross that ocean he'd drown.

He answered the phone (of course) because how could he go to hell for her unless he heard her ask him to?

"Robin…" He said, casually, he hoped.

"Hey, Barney!" Robin squealed, so loudly that he had to hold the phone away from his ear. "We missed you at midnight! Did the work thing go okay?" She screeched again.

"Robin," he shook his head with a fond grin. "Are you Woo-ing?"

"Get over here!" Robin laughed, ignoring him. "The gang needs you! It's the not the same! We miss you!" She sounded really, really drunk.

Barney covered the phone with his hand, staring at the wall. It broke his heart a little bit that he couldn't just ditch the girls, down a sixer of Red Bull, get in a cab and join his friends. That would be the grown up thing to do. That would be the thing for Future Barney to do. Right now he was still the gunslinger and the gunslinger had several bullets left to fire.

What up.

He looked back at the girls on his bed. They were doing… what the hell _were_ they doing? Autopilot Barney was suddenly very interested indeed.

His thumb brushed the screen, cutting Robin off, and he dropped the cell phone on to the floor, pulling off his shirt and returned to the bed.


	2. Happy New Year

January 1st, 2009

For the first time in over ten years, he doesn't have the urge to leap straight out of bed. That's not to say that his brain isn't going into overdrive from the very second he opens his eyes. It's just that… Barney feels a certain malaise and he hates himself for it. He hates (and he doesn't understand) those people who laze around in bed for hours. Normally he finds he does his best work first thing in the morning (sometimes his only work). Normally he has a quick shower, a caffeine injection and he's straight on his laptop, his mind floating in cyberspace, untethered, connecting the dots, working the information, squeezing and moulding it. Normally, he's buzzing by ten a.m.

For the first time in over ten years, he has no idea, not one idea, of the names of the women in his bed. He's aware of two (no, three. Three? What _up_!) sets of limbs draped over him, weighing him down. Bodies… smooth skin, cheap perfume, soft lips. One of them is awake, her mouth tracing a pattern across his abdomen. The sensation makes him twitch, makes his dick stiffen. She fondles him and he lets out a sigh, staring at the ceiling. He can't seem to move.

_Three_ women?

One of them, her auburn hair brushing across his chest, hovers over him, settling on top of him. She doesn't kiss him, but he reaches up to cup her breast as it jiggles with each jerking movement of her lithe body.

He grits his teeth as she sinks down on top of him. He feels exhausted, wrung dry as if he hasn't slept a wink all night.

*--*--*

"Lily," he breathes, his hand shaking so hard that he can't seem to tap the screen and almost drops his cellphone.

He's locked in his own bathroom. The chicks seem to be doing fine without him.

"Lily…" Then he remembers, she's not even in New York. Lily and Marshall went to Minnesota to spend some time playing happy families (lame) but he really _needs_ Lily. He needs her because his heart is pounding, pounding in his ears and he can't do this, he can't face another year stuck on this whirling carousel. He needs her because she can hold him and sit with him and not badger him with questions and she's the only one he ever, ever, ever trusted to do that.

In a panic, he tries to ring Ted. He gets him on the third try. He wheezes into the phone and can't say a word. He stutters and splutters and his throat constricts. He knocks over a tiny vial of pills sending them skittering across the floor.

Ted…

He hears words although they sound like they are coming from far away, through reinforced concrete walls, through earth and cedar wood. He can't stop the plea that bubbles up in his throat. "Ted… Help…" He doesn't even know if he said the words or thought them. He can't do this. He can't beg. He doesn't beg. Barney Stinson does not beg.

Ted…

There's a knock on his door.

Barney sits up suddenly, eyes wide open. How long has he been sitting there, staring at his phone? He's sweating, clammy, his pulse is erratic, like a trapped animal with tiny, brittle bones.

He gets to his feet, naked and confused as he hears the door open and there's screeching and recriminations and girlish, strident protests. Stumbling out into the living room, into the chaos, he's suddenly drawn into a male embrace and Ted takes his face in his hands and kisses him, hard, firmly, on the lips.

Barney takes it, stands there, mute even after the kiss is broken - broken but not withdrawn. Then Ted is holding him, rubbing his back, over his spine and the back of his ribcage, as Lily has done so many times, and the tension hisses out of him, the pressure gently relieved.

The girls are squealing, laughing, still complaining, but they are gathering their clothes and leaving and isn't that what he wanted?

The pain comes swiftly, blossoming bright scarlet behind his eyes. Barney cries out, a sob of agony, clutching his head but Ted is there, a solid mass, so much more than Lily ever could be. Ted feeds him his pills, stroking his throat and whispering soft words. Hot tears squeeze through his tightly-shut eyelids but Ted dabs them dry (or kisses them away, it's hard to tell) and gently, carefully, his friend (best friend… best friend) lowers him on to the couch and covers him with a blanket.

The shivers subside. The pain recedes in great waves. Hours later, he wakes.

*--*--*

"Wow," Ted says, stroking his hair. "That was a bad one, wasn't it?"

Barney nods, not knowing what to say even if he could speak.

"I'm glad you called me." Ted says. "You know- Barney, I've said it often enough. You don't need to ever be embarrassed if you need my help. It's better somehow, to know there's at least one thing you can't do alone."

Barney winces but Ted smiles reassuringly.

"Did you kiss me, Ted?" He says with a salacious grin.

Ted laughs. "I see you're back to normal."

"Answer the question! Ted, are you trying to get me into bed?" Barney chuckles. The memory warms his belly and makes him feel safe.

Ted strokes his cheek, fingers brushing lightly across the stubble covering his jaw line. "Dude, if I wanted to have my wicked way with your body, I would have done it a long time ago."

Barney sits up and Ted hands him a glass of water. He grimaces and Ted shakes his head sternly. "No red bull and no alcohol until you're better." Barney drinks the water, pretending reluctance, but his body absorbs the moisture as if starved for it. When Ted rubs his back, gently, insistently, Barney leans into his embrace.

"Man, you've got to slow down, you know that, don't you?" Ted says, softly. "You're killing yourself."

Barney shakes his head, which seems to dislodge his tender brain. He closes his eyes briefly until the room stops spinning. It scares him a little. He's never had an attack this bad. He's never felt the after effects for this long. Not ever. His skin feels clammy and his heart starts to skip again, beating erratically.

"Hey… _Hey_!" Ted pulls him into a tight embrace, warming him. "Hey, dude… Shhh, it's okay."

If he has another attack, now, this close to the last one, he doesn't think he can survive it. He swallows spasmodically, trembling, on the edge of the precipice.

Slowly, painfully slowly, frustratingly slowly, it ebbs away again, leaving his skittish. He doesn't loosen his grip on Ted. "Don't leave…" He breathes.

"I'm not going anywhere."

He breathes. He breathes. Normality returns. He's going to survive this.

"Thank you…" Barney smiles.

"Any time." Ted kisses the top of his head and he feels his cheeks flush with heat.

"Thank you…"

"You'd better get dressed," Ted laughs. "Come on, dude. Get up."

Ted leads him into the bedroom and, for a moment, just a moment, he considers pulling on the single, solitary, worn pair of Levis in the back of his closet. He really wants to wear the soft, frayed sweater, the last remnant of college, of a person he's left behind a long time ago. The thought of silk and suits terrifies him. He emerges with his old clothes in his arms, clutching them to his chest like a talisman.

Ted smiles and takes the sweater away from him, nods and has to help him pull on his jeans like he's an invalid. But he discards the sweater, instead handing Barney a crisp white shirt. It feels good to let go, let Ted make the decision for him. The Egyptian cotton is pleasantly cool against his skin.

"Perfect," Ted murmurs. "You look perfect." He takes Barney by the shoulders and turns him around to face the mirror. A stranger looks back at him - his stance, his slightly mussed hair, his clothes - he looks relaxed. He and Ted look like brothers. The stranger in the mirror smiles and a fraction, a _tiny_ fraction of the weight that's sat on his shoulders for over ten years simply lifts away.

"Happy New Year, Barney," Ted says, winking at him over his shoulder.

Barney grins. "Happy New Year, Ted."


	3. Baked Part 1

Baked

The intention wasn't to pick up women. Ted wanted to do something different with Barney, keep him in this zone he seemed to have eased his friend into, keep him happy and relaxed and stave off another crazy, terrifying panic attack. In some ways, Ted almost wished he didn't know about them, that he hadn't badgered Barney and Lily into telling him, Marshall and Robin. Now he felt like he was seeing his friend through a lens distorted by guilt and apprehension. All those times he'd argued with Barney, all those times he'd fought with him and he'd never know how much he'd contributed to Barney's condition. Now Ted thought that he needed normality as much as he thought Barney did.

So, the intention wasn't to pick up women, the intention was for them to get lost in their own city. But they'd slipped into their comfort zone so easily and they'd stood, shoulder to shoulder, wingman to wingman, matching each other drink for drink as they'd haunted a bar (not McLaren's - somewhere no-one knew them) their pockets slowly filling with scraps of paper with scrawled numbers.

They clinked glasses and smiled as if they hadn't a care in the world and neither of them wanted the night to end. "A club?" Barney suggested, and Ted felt an unfamiliar twinge of concern. Was Barney up to it? He'd looked exhausted, earlier. But Ted didn't want to ruin the mood, ruin their rapport, and perhaps they both needed to relax more? "I hate to say this, Theodore," Barney smiled over the rim of his glass, "but I'm actually having a good time tonight." He chuckled.

"You look like you are," Ted said, wincing how crass he sound. But he did! Barney looked different… happier? He laughed a little easier; he moved a little more naturally. It was if someone had taken the brightness control on Barney and turned it down a little, just enough so you could actually look at him without being blinded.

Barney laughed. "I don't know who I am…" He'd said the same thing, a few hours before, while standing in front of the mirror, eyes wider than a new-born baby.

"Who do you want to be?" Ted asked him, gently. "You can be whoever you want."

"This is pretty awesome," Barney said, leaning forward to rest an elbow on the bar.

"Yeah," Ted laughed. "Yeah, dude. It really is."

"So…" Barney grinned boyishly. "You wanna hit a club?" It wasn't a demand, it wasn't an expectation. It was a question. Ted decided he liked this version of Barney a hell of a lot better and his guilt receded a little bit.

"Nah, you know what I want to do?" Ted said, feeling mischievous. "What I really fancy right now is a sandwich."

*--*--*

"Pot?" Barney hissed, giggling. "What are you, Ted? Eighteen?"

Ted laughed. They were standing in an alleyway outside the bar. "Maybe I am, at heart. Hey, you were a hippy when you were in college! It's a bit hypocritical of you to point the finger."

"Yeah, in _college_! But in case you didn't notice, I was also incredibly _lame_!"

Ted grinned, raised an eyebrow and handed him one of the two joints he'd bought, pocketing the other. "Chill out, dude. Seriously."

Barney fished out a zippo lighter from his pocket and raised an eyebrow as he placed the joint between his lips. He lit it and took a toke, not coughing exactly but his eyes crossed briefly. Ted was impressed. Pot seemed so much stronger to him these days on the rare occasion that he indulged.

Barney blew a smoke ring and said, simply, "Wow!" He handed the joint to Ted with a grin.

"I _know_, right?" Ted took a long drag on the joint and held the smoke inside for as long as he could, closing his eyes, before slowly breathing it out. "So, was this a good idea, or what?"

Barney's laugh was a little high pitched. "Shut up 'n gimme that…", he said, waving at Ted's until he passed back the joint. Barney took a long, long drag until he choked, almost coughing his guts out. Ted tried to pat him on the back, a bit ineffectually because he was laughing so much.

"You gotta take it steady, dude! I told you it was strong!", he said, taking the joint back off Barney before he could drop it in the gutter.

"Jesus…" Barney wheezed. "Are you trying to kill me, Ted?" But he snatched back the joint and took a tiny suck, his blood-shot eyes flickering shut with pleasure.

"There you go!" Ted said, squeezing Barney's shoulder. He could feel his friend's body relaxing under the influence of the drug. He took another toke on the joint and then breathed deeply, sucking in the night air. "Wow…" He said, his head spinning slightly.

"It doesn't even feel cold…" Barney said, wonderingly. "Ted, I don't feel cold…"

Ted chuckled. It seemed like this was the funniest thing he'd ever heard. "Dude - it isn't cold!" He said, giggling.

"It's always cold," Barney said, with crazy earnestness. "It's winter!" Then he began to giggle too. "Gimme it back…" He took the joint and took a couple of puffs. Grinning hugely he murmured, "Ted, pot is _awesome_!"

Ted grinned. "Yeah, man. I know!"

Barney flung his arm around Ted's shoulder. "So what'you want to do? Club?"

"You think we can find a cab?" Ted asked.

"If I can make my feet work!"

*--*--*

Ted had no memory of exactly why they'd decided to go back to his place or who'd smoked the rest of the joint (although it was probably Barney) but suddenly it seemed like they had teleported as they burst into the apartment, talking in comically-loud whispers. For some reason decided that they could dance, even if they weren't in a club.

They woke Robin up exactly thirty seconds into the first track, playing at full volume on the aging stereo system. She was out of her room, gun in hand and screaming at the both of them before either of them had noticed she was there. She turned down the music, putting her hands on her hips as she berated them.

"Ted! It's two a.m.! I had _no_ sleep last night! I'm still hungover! What the hell are you doing?"

"Chill out, Robin!" Ted said, feeling nicely buzzed, as if there was a cushion between him and Robin's disproval. He tried to hand her the second joint but missed her by a mile. "We're just dancing!"

"BARNEY?" Robin shouted incredulously. Barney was still dancing to the music, arms and legs flailing everywhere. To Ted, this seemed utterly and completely hilarious. He couldn't seem to stop laughing. "Ted," Robin said, warningly. "What did you do to Barney?"

"I gave him a makeover! Isn't he _awesome_?" Ted waved the joint around, watching it make arcs in the air, still giggling.

"You gave him a _makeover_?" Robin shook her head in disbelief, then narrowed her eyes. "Ted, have you got him wearing _jeans_?"

Barney managed to bump into Ted, looking up blearily. "Ted! I've got to tell you! Ted, I love you, bro! You're my brother!" He reached out and gave him a hug, burying his face in Ted's neck.

"Okay… now I'm scared," Robin said.

Barney looked up. "Robin! Robin, I love you too! You're my bro! You're my lady bro!" He grinned and beckoned her to his embrace.

Robin took the joint out of Ted's flailing hand. "If you two are going to get weird, I think I'm going to need some of this." She raised an eyebrow. "Sit down before you both fall down!"

To be continued...


	4. Baked Part 2

**Baked - Part 2**

Robin had managed to both switch the TV on and get back to the sofa, which was a Herculean effort in Ted's eyes. She sat beside him, head resting on his shoulder while Ted was himself weighed down by a blissed-out Barney sprawled across their laps and occasionally mumbling in his sleep. "Love you guys…" Barney breathed.

Robin ruffled his hair. "Sure you do, buddy."

Ted felt himself tense, his body stiffening. He almost felt jealous of Robin touching Barney and, bizarrely, he suddenly resented her being there at all. She gave him a quizzical look at Ted laid a protective hand on Barney's shoulder.

"I'm starving!" Robin said, suddenly. "Ted, do we have any chocolate?"

"Yeah, I think so. Um... nope... Um... we have cookies in the kitchen?"

"I love cookies!" Barney muttered.

"You love everything!" Robin laughed, but she got up, shooting Ted a look to follow her. He didn't want to disturb Barney but Ted lifted his friend's head gently and slid out from underneath him, making his way to the kitchen.

Robin was standing by the stove, holding R2 Sweet Tooth in her hands and biting her lip thoughtfully. "Ted… what's going on?" She asked.

Ted smiled uncertainly."Nothing! Nothing's going on! Why would anything be going on?" He said. He felt weird. He didn't want to talk about Barney's panic attack or have to explain everything that had happened. It was too private, somehow. And why was Robin questioning him all of a sudden?

She put down the cookie jar and folded her arms. "Ted, why are you being so defensive?"

He shook his head. The room wobbled a bit.

"I- I-…" Ted leaned back against the counter and suddenly it was if lots of things slotted into place, things he hadn't bothered to analyse for months. "Robin, I'm sorry."

"What are you sorry _for_? You're freaking me out a bit, here. And what's with Barney?"

"I'm sorry for what happened over the summer." Ted blurted, trying to deflect her. "I'm sorry for going so crazy at you; at _both_ of you. I think I was jealous. You're, like, two of my best friends, and it was confusing, you know? Seeing you together, knowing that you had something special that excluded me, cut me off from the two of you…"

Robin frowned. "Boy… not the right time to bring this all up again, Mosby. Remind me not to let you anywhere near marijuana again?"

Ted laughed. "I'm serious, Robin. I mean, what's the point in life, in living, if you can't be honest with your friends? If you keep everything held inside, compartmentalised, controlled. It's like… It's like you're strangling your psyche…"

Robin punched him lightly on the arm. "Psyche? Where did all this come from? And, hey, perhaps I'm not the one you should be saying all this to?" She indicated the other room.

"He's asleep."

"So wake him up?"

"Robin, that's mean!"

Robin took a step towards him and wrapped her arms around him, giving him a hug. "You're a good man, Ted. You just need to show it to Barney a bit more. Don't always make him your whipping boy, eh?"

Ted stepped back, his guts twisting. His head still felt fuzzy from the pot.

"Go on," Robin pushed him gently, propelling him into the the living room. "And don't get all philosophical on him. It's far too late for that."

Ted smiled and her and turned around, making his way back to the couch. It took his brain a full minute to work out what his eyes were seeing.

"Hey, Robin? Where's Barney?"

They both looked around, wearing matching confused expressions. "Is he in the bathroom?" Robin asked.

"Nope. Door's open."

"Where the hell…?" Ted said, spinning around, as if Barney would somehow emerge from the invisibility cloak he'd evidently been using.

Robin rolled her eyes and pointed. "Ted, look-?"

The window was wide open and, sure enough, Barney was balancing precariously on the fire escape, arms flung wide, head tilted back as if he were drinking in the night sky.

"Jesus! Barney!" Robin shouted, trying to pull him back inside. Ted couldn't help but laugh although his lips felt weirdly numb. He wasn't so much a help to Robin as a hindrance. Finally they both managed to drag Barney back inside the apartment, where he collapsed on to the floor, sticking out his arms and legs like a starfish.

"This is… aw… That's it! I am _never_ moving again!" Barney grinned, eyes tightly shut.

"Seriously, Ted. What did you do to him?" Robin asked.

"Just gave him some weed. I think he's funny! But perhaps we should get him into bed." Ted sighed. "I'll take the couch."

Robin rubbed her face, he knuckles digging into her eye sockets. "I think we should all get some sleep.

*--*--*

Ted woke slowly. One arm was hooked around someone's waist, holding them close. His face was pressed into the back of someone's head, short hair tickling his nose. He reached out an exploratory hand and felt not one shoulder but two. One of them was bare. One of them had long hair which tangled in his questing fingers.

Crap.

Oh crap…

This was bad…

But he was very warm and _very_ comfortable and Barney kind-of smelled really nice and Robin's skin felt soft where his fingers found the swell of her breast and…

He really, really didn't want to move.

*--*--*

"Nnngh!" Barney sat bolt upright, disturbing Ted and pushing Robin so that she rolled over on to the floor with a thud. She squealed and Barney squirmed back against the headboard, kicking the blankets away.

"Calm down!" Ted said, waving his arms frantically as Robin's head popped up from the other side of the bed. "It's okay! It's okay! Nothing happened."

Barney looked at him with an expression of utter terror and Robin looked as if she was going to bite his head off.

"Look!" Ted managed to sit up, causing Barney to flinch away from him. "Look, nothing happened. We're all still wearing… clothes…" This was true, although in his case it was pants and socks, in Barney's it was a tshirt and boxers and in Robin's it was basically a bra and briefs. "None of us did anything we should be ashamed of. We just got… kinda baked… and… cuddled?" He trailed off weekly.

Barney gagged theatrically. "We _cuddled_?"

"What would you rather we'd have done?" Ted snapped at him. "Devil's threeway?" He laughed uncertainly, trying to break the tension.

Robin rooted around the floor and pulled on Barney's discarded shirt. Wow, Robin had good legs... Ted found himself staring at her and then realised that Barney was too. He punched him on the arm.

"We cuddled…" Barney mumbled with a tinge of desperation.

Robin grinned. "Yeah. It was nice. Although next time, don't dump me on the floor, okay?" She gave them both a wink and disappeared back into her own bedroom. Both men watched her go.

"Next time?" Ted repeated, incredulously.

"What a woman…" Barney sighed.

"Yeah…" Then Ted turned and gave Barney a pointed look. "Hey!"

Barney shrugged. "Ted! You know I have a thing for Robin. What's new?"

Ted opened his mouth but no witty retort came to mind.

Barney scooted forward and lay back down on the bad, staring at the ceiling. "I can't believe we only _cuddled_…"

Ted laughed. "That's pot for you."

Barney laughed. "That, my friend, is why I drink scotch."

Ted leaned back, moving over until he was lying on his back next to Barney. "So, dude, you wanna get brunch?" He said with an evil smile.

Barney reached over and hit him with a pillow.


	5. Truth

Truth

Barney saunters into the McLaren's, one hand on the knot of his tie as he winks at the waitress who scuttles past him. He's vaguely aware that the gang are sitting in their normal booth but he feels like he's floating and everything's both remote and immediate. He blames the red bull and the six espressos he's had this afternoon at work and he makes a move on a young cutlet at the bar.

She's twenty-one, he estimates. Bored, single, maybe a bit adventurous (tight, high-neck sweater but short, short skirt) and she laughs easily at everything she says.

Earlier, when he skipped lunch at work, he got the shakes. He's not slept more than three hours straight these past two nights…

"Hey, Barney?" Ted says, appearing suddenly in front of him like a jack-in-the-box. This makes Barney blink because time's got a funny way of distorting around him lately. "I've been trying to call you for two days. Where've you been?"

Barney grins because it's easier to let his autopilot take control and he lets out a throaty laugh. "Where _haven't_ I been? Know-what-I mean? What up!"

The girl sitting with him wrinkles her nose in distaste. Party-pooper.

"Seriously, Barney. I've been worried about you."

Barney tries to laugh it off. "What are you, Ted? My bookie?" But his instincts tell him that Ted won't quit bugging him till he gets something more. "I've had stuff goin' on. You know? Work?" His voice gets a little ghetto and he realises he's over-doing it. Ted's frown seems to deepen.

"Come on, have a drink with us?" Ted says. When Barney hesitates Ted touches his shoulder, not exactly patting it but there's something there, something he can't quite name. "Please?"

Out of sheer confusion, Barney takes his scotch and follows Ted over to the booth. He gets a weird reaction from everyone but Marshall. Robin's got the same look in her eye as Ted - she's staring at him, searchingly, almost as if she can smash through his defences with those blue, sparkling eyes (no way, baby) and Lily's tilting her head as if he's just announced he's going to join the priesthood.

"What?" He drawls. "Have I got something on my face?" He pats his nose with a smile, taking a shot at just ignoring their weirdness.

"Hey, Barney," Marshall says, oblivious. "Did you get that email that Hendricks sent round today? Talk about disgusting!" He laughs and Barney laughs even though he has no idea what Marshall's talking about. He wasn't lying when he told Ted he'd been working - properly working - for the last two days. He's taken his body off the hook, plugged in his brain and made GNB about a couple'a billion dollars. Oh snap! He grins, celebrating his own cleverness (because nobody else will) and he guesses that he wasn't strictly doing the job he was paid to do. But no-one's gonna say anything…

"…interview in _Florida_!" Robin's words drift across the table and Barney wonders what they've been talking about. He smirks and takes a sip of his drink, his standard practice to cover up the times he spaces out. It's probably that lame job Robin was talking about the other day. She's better than that, but she seems keen on the idea so he rolls with it.

"Plenty of hot chicks in Florida. Half-naked hot chicks. That's like double the fun…" He grins and winks at Robin. "Take me with you as hand luggage?" He makes an obscene gesture and they laugh although it sounds a little forced. What's wrong with these people? Seriously! A dude could get paranoid.

As the conversation continues, Ted turns to him and says, softly. "Barney, you wanna come up to the apartment and get changed?"

Barney gives him a quizzical look.

"Only… you've been in that suit all day…" Ted's being really awkward and it's harshing his mellow.

"Oh, stop being such a girl!"

Ted gives him that odd look again, that searching look. Barney bats his hand in front of his face as if to physically ward it off.

"Barney, are you okay?"

_I haven't slept in two days and all I want to do is have a few beers and get laid_, Barney thinks. But that's the autopilot talking and he knows it. That's the dynamo inside him that powers him through the times when he's so exhausted that he can barely get out of bed. That's the twenty-something him that's slowing down and it terrifies him. So he says "I don't know… just busy. New year, stuff to do…" He looks over towards the door, his instincts screaming at him to flee. He doesn't do introspection. He doesn't do _this_. Because this leads to shaking and sweating and heart-palpitations and feeling like he's going to die. The tips of his fingers start to tingle. _Damn_.

Lily's looking at him now and, crap, if he can't hear exactly what she has to say: "Barney… you need to stop. You need to stop NOW!" When did he inherit telepathy?

"Oh yeah? Lil? What do you suggest I do?" He says out loud. Marshall and Robin stop talking because it seems like such a non sequitur.

Lily takes control because she's got more balls than the lot of them. "Let's go up to the apartment?" She suggests. And although Marshall protests and Robin doesn't get it, they all leave their drinks behind and troop upstairs.

And this makes him feel twitchy, trapped, unhappy for the first time since he made that call to Ted from his bathroom on New Year's day. He knows he's been running harder, faster, longer, more frantically since then. He knows he's just rebelling against those couple of days when he took a brief holiday from himself... when he allowed Ted to climb the wall that he thought was too sheer and steep for anyone to get over.

And his fingers tingle. He knows how this goes. Soon he won't be able to breathe. If he doesn't think about it…? How can he not think about it when all he feels is jet-lag from the lack of sleep and wired-tight from the caffeine and boar-ish from the alcohol and the self-disgust and self-loathing starts creeping over him…? His steps slow down (it feels like he's walking through a river of mud) and Ted grabs him in a panic, pulling him along.

How did they all see this coming before he did? Why are they trying to help him? When did _Ted_ become so perceptive?

The world gets a bit woolly and Ted propels him into his room. "You! Change!" Ted says, throwing him a pair of jeans and a tatty old sweater. "Get that damn suit off."

"But- but-!" Even now, he tries to protest but Ted pushes a tshirt into his outstretched hands.

"I mean it, Barney!"

Is this tough love? He shrugs off his jacket, nodding approvingly as Ted takes it from him and hangs it up. The shirt and tie go quickly - it doesn't feel weird because Ted's seen him naked (and that in itself should be weird but it isn't) and he pulls on the sweater and…

It's like diving into a cool lake. He staggers, feeling a little high - it's almost like he can smell the pot-smoke on Ted's clothes…

He tries not to giggle but he can't hold in the smile.

He loses the battle completely when he tries to get his trousers off and he falls back onto the bed. Ted has to help him and they laugh.

Once he's dressed and Ted zips up the sweater they emerge from his bedroom and join the others.

Something has shifted. It's weird how easy everything becomes. There are no odd looks, no strange telepathic messages, no worry or concern. They kick back, watch a movie, chug a beer and there's no tingling in his fingers or erratic heart murmurs or shortness of breath. He sits on the couch between Lily and Ted and it doesn't feel claustrophobic. It feels comforting.

He worries, in some deep, dark fucked-up part of himself that he keeps hidden (because, god knows, he doesn't want to hurt anybody), he worries that this is the _truth_… That this is _him_… That this is all he is.

He worries that Awesome Barney was always just a lie. That Autopilot Barney doesn't actually make him happy. That what powers that dynamo is an evil thing full of hatred and misogyny and pain.

And what happens now that the dynamo is faulty? What happens when Ted's not around telling him to suit-down and wake up and smell the roses?

But Ted puts his arm around his shoulder and Barney closes his eyes briefly. If Ted wasn't there, Lily would be there. And if Lily wasn't there, Robin or Marshall would be there.

Because he had friends. Real friends. And it's something he never understood until now.

And that's the truth.


	6. Stop Me Part 1

**Stop me**

Looking back on it, Marshall often wondered whether, in the forty-eight hours, he could have done anything differently. It wasn't that he felt guilty. It's just that his heart ached every time he remembered the look on Barney's face. He'd never forget it. And he'd never, _ever_ let that happen again.

It all started at seven AM, on a cold Thursday morning in January, 2009. Marshall was at work early for a meeting on the seventh floor. As he made his way to the conference room, his path took him past his friend's office. Naturally, he ducked in to say "Hi".

He was kind-of surprised by what he saw. Barney's normally spartan office was a mess. His desk was covered in stacks of half-opened files which had spilled over on to two of his black leather chairs.

"Hey buddy!" Marshall greeted him.

Barney looked up for where he was sitting, deeply engrossed with something on his laptop, and gave him a friendly smile. "Marshall!" He looked pleased to see him and leaned back from his desk stretching out his arms and flexing his fingers. He checked his watch. "You in for the Nakamura meeting?" He asked.

"Yep!" Marshall said brightly. "You too?"

Barney twitched then shook himself. "Nah. Just… working. Couldn't sleep."

Marshall took in Barney's rumpled appearance, his five o'clock shadow (or seven AM shadow?) and frowned a little. "You been here all night, man?" He felt a twinge of worry. It was weird how he'd gotten used to a different Barney, a mellower Barney, a Barney who basically acted like a regular guy. The hyperactive, hard-edged Barney of old had been vanquished somehow by Ted, by Robin, even by his wife. Marshall hadn't really understood it but he knew that Barney's panic attacks were real enough. So what that he'd felt a little remote from the process of changing his friend? He really liked this new, improved Barney.

It was kind of weird to see his friend on-edge like this. It felt like bad old Barney was creeping back in and it put Marshall on edge himself. He wondered if he should call Ted?

Barney shrugged, closing his eyes as if he was willing the tension to drain from his body. When he opened them again his smile was softer, easier and Marshall felt a little silly for worrying about him. "It's weird. I've been looking through our foreign holdings and cross checking them with the collapse of two of our rival banking establishments over the past two weeks. I dunno, Marshall. Something doesn't smell right. I feel it in my gut. I've been looking all night and…" He pulled out one of the papers as if to show it to Marshall. "And…" His attention was caught up by the paper. "And… that's…" He trailed off, slapping the paper on the table and digging around in the file.

"Barney?" Marshall asked. Barney ignored him so he took a step closer and opened his mouth only to hear his name yelled from the door.

"Eriksen!" Marshall spun around, suddenly in a panic. If the meeting had started he was going to get it. "See you later Barney!" He said, then turned around in the doorway. "Don't work too hard. And get some sleep!" He yelled as he hurried to the meeting room.

Little did he know how little attention Barney would pay to that advice.

*--*--*

_The girl from Legal is barely legal. Heh. What up! _

_Barney is supposed to be at McLaren's right now but Ted's being lame and working late and Robin's out with Jillian. And yes, he's asked her to take video evidence so that every glorious moment is captured on film. _

_The girl from Legal seems to want to crawl down his throat. She kisses him hard, insistently. _

_The seventh floor is God. And he, Barney Stinson, is Jesus Christ, its disciple. _

_Okay, so he might be a little bit drunk. _

_They share the quarter bottle of Johnny Walker Red in his office and she throws herself at him, skirt up round her waist, panties down round her ankles, and she's riding him hard on his sofa before he's really worked out what's going on. _

_He feels something, creeping over him. He feels as though his second skin is settling back on to him, the layers, the layers, the armour hardening. His heart beats a little faster and he grimaces when he comes. It's painful. He flails, emotionally, mentally, trying to find the centre he's discovered with his friends. But she kisses him, kisses him, vacant-eyed and her nipple presses against his cheek and, fuck, he's missed this. _

_When she's finished with him, straightening her clothes and winking at him over her shoulder, he's buzzing so hard that his hands are shaking. _

_He won't sleep. He can't sleep. He goes online and his brain crackles and sparks._

_It's beautiful._

_Eventually, about four in the morning, he finds something interesting. _

_By seven AM he's almost sure._

_Marshall drops by on his way to that Nakamura meeeting and everything clicks into place. _

*--*--*

The meeting ran late so Marshall missed his regular lunch date with Ted and Barney. They'd either eat up on the roof or go out. Ted always tried to make sure Barney got some fresh air. Marshall guessed that was something to do with project mellow-Barney-out.

He caught up with Ted at two in the afternoon.

"Dude, have you eaten?" He asked. "I'm starving here!"

Ted looked up from a set of complex technical drawings. "Oh, right. Sorry. I had something earlier. How did the meeting go?"

Marshall shrugged. "Okay. Pretty boring. Meetings on the seventh floor always take _hours_…" He was about to launch into a rant about Bilson when Ted interrupted him.

"Hey, dude, do you know what's happening with Barney?"

Marshall looked up, confused. "What's happening with Barney?"

Ted shrugged, biting his lip. "I tried to see him at lunch and there were a bunch of very serious looking guys in his office and Nolan's been running around looking _very_ tense all day."

"Really?" Marshall had almost forgotten his conversation with Barney first thing.

"Only," Ted continued, "I know that all these banks are in trouble right now and if there's something going down here, I'd appreciate the heads up. This contract could make or break my firm, you know?"

Marshall frowned, taking in his friend's worried face. He tried to smile reassuringly. "Ted, I'm sure it's nothing. Barney's probably doing whatever he does…"

Ted pushed his chair away from his drafting table. "Just so long as he doesn't go all Vader on us again..? We've really been making progress, you know."

Trust Ted to get to the heart of the matter and now he'd even got Marshall worried. After he excused himself and had fed his rumbling belly, given Lily her "I love you" phone call and checked his phone messages, Marshall again made his way up to seventh to see Barney.

Nolan and Bilson were both outside Barney's office, locked in heated debate. Marshall ducked around a corner, where he could overhear them but not be seen.

"What if he's right?" Bilson asked, an edge of hysteria creeping into his voice. Marshall had never heard Bilson sound like that. He'd never seen Bilson lose it, not even in the meetings with the Koreans that invariably turned into shouting matches.

"He's right." Nolan said, calmly. "Stinson's the best analyst there is. You know that. He's saved our butts more than a few times."

"Then what do we do?"

"There's a crisis meeting at six tonight, or whenever John gets here. Then we call the Japanese, I guess…" Bilson frowned, got out his handkerchief and dabbed his brow. "And hope we still all have jobs in the morning."

Marshall's heart beat loudly in his chest, sure that Bilson and Nolan would hear it as they walked past. "John" must be John MacBride, the CEO of Goliath National Bank. Marshall had never met the guy but he'd heard he was a real ball breaker. He was based in the Washington office and had an insane reputation.

When he was sure that Bilson and Nolan had left, Marshall doubled back for Barney's office, nodding to Tracy as he walked inside.

The room was an even worse mess than it had been that morning. Every inch of floor space was taken up with maps, diagrams and papers, laid out in geometrical shapes on the floor. The walls were covered in post-its and charts.

"Wow," was all that Marshall could manage.

Barney was at his laptop, looking as though he hadn't moved since the morning. His eyes were red-rimmed and glinted as his fingers flew over the keyboard. "Barney, what's happening?" Marshall blurted.

Barney looked up, vaguely registering Marshall, before going back to his work. "Important stuff. Gotta…" He frowned at the computer as if it was being deliberately obstructive.

Marshall carefully closed the door behind him. He lowered his voice. "Are we in trouble? Is GNB in trouble?"

Barney looked up, his frown deepening. "No!" He said with a bark of laughter. "Or at least it won't be if people will just stop interrupting me."

"Why, what are you doing?" Marshall asked him.

"Please!" Barney went back to his work.

Marshall decided to put his cards on the table. They were all he had. "Look, you should take a break. Or at least have a shower and shave before John MacBride gets here?"

Barney looked up sharply. "How do you know about that?"

Marshall smirked. Totally lawyered! "So there _is_ something going on! Tell me?"

Barney waved around him. "It's all here. Look, can you just leave me alone? I've got, like, two hours to get this all done. Two hours and that's it. Please… Marshall…?"

But Marshall was looking around him, trying to follow the pattern of diagrams and print-outs and charts and reports. He thought he understood a little of it, certainly some of the legal papers, but the rest may as well have been written in Chinese. Hell, some of it _was_ written in Chinese.

Marshall swallowed. "So _this_ is what you do, huh?" Suddenly he kind-of understood why Barney never bothered to explain it to anyone. "You could just say you're a Business Analyst, you know."

Barney rolled his eyes with a smirk. "Oh Marshall. If only it were so simple."

"Then what else do you do, buddy?" Marshall asked, now genuinely curious.

"Watch and see, my friend, watch and see."

*--*--*

_By nine AM he's sure. First thing he does is call John MacBride, quickly, briefly, on his personal line. He doesn't have time to waste. His brain crackles and sparks and he's got everything, everything all in his head. All the information, everything is in his head. Contained. Cross referenced. It's amazing. It's awesome. His heart races. _

_By ten AM the company springs into action like a well-oiled machine, like an extension of his own body. He flexes his arm and they bring him three piles of files. He flicks his little finger and one of the guys from IT gives him access. Faster, faster, higher, higher. _

_By two in the afternoon he's buzzing like a saw and they can't feed him fast enough. People keep coming, a train of them, in and out of his office, in and out. Bilson and Nolan are like shadows over his shoulder, watching him, questioning him. John calls, from the airstrip. Constant, constant people. Marshall stops by, asking him if GNB are in trouble. He grins. They might have been, some hours ago. They might have been, at four AM. Now it's four in the afternoon and a lot can happen in twelve hours._

_If they move now, they can burn so brightly. That's all that matters. _

_They can do it. _

_And it's wonderful. _

*--*--*

Marshall stayed late at work. Ted had a date but made him promise, on the lives of his four unborn children, to keep an eye on Barney. At six, there was a commotion at reception as John MacBride arrived. Pretty much everyone was still working. The entire company had been mobilised. The legal department kept getting requests for copies of contracts and it had kept Marshall busy the whole day.

And it was hard to concentrate when he was worried both about his own job and about Barney.

And speaking of the devil, Marshall caught a glimpse of his friend going into the big meeting with MacBride, Bilson, Nolan and all the directors of the New York office of GNB. Barney had certainly taken Marshall's advice and smartened himself up. He looked alert, almost manic. Marshall was pretty sure that he'd been mainlining Red Bull and wondered if he should stick around till the meeting finished.

But then Lily rang and he sent Barney a quick text before heading home for dinner.

Three hours later he got a reply from Barney. "Everything is steak sauce."

Marshall laughed and showed his wife, who instantly demanded to know every detail of his day. He toned things down a little because he didn't want to worry her (they had enough money worries without him losing this job) but instead she seemed to obsess about Barney.

"Did he get any sleep today?" She asked. "They made him go into a big meeting without any sleep?"

Marshall smiled. "Honey, don't worry. This is corporate America. It's kind-of understood that sometimes you have to pull an all-nighter in order if something major happens."

Lily frowned. "What _major_ happened?"

"Oh crap!"

So he had to tell her everything anyway.

*--*--*

_He's starting to slow down, he knows that now. Over twenty-four hours with no sleep and he grabs a handful of pills, takes a hot, hot shower and he's ready to go. The meeting is a blur. He speaks, they listen. Then he shuts up and they talk and talk and talk. Just as he's getting bored enough to start counting the mints in the bowl at the centre of the conference table, John asks him what he thinks. _

_He tells them. _

_Later, Marshall texts him, asking him how the meeting went. Inside, he glows. The pills help. They dampen down the vibrations but he can feel something growing inside him. He has to carry on, push forward, see this to the end. _

_Steak sauce. _


	7. Stop Me Part 2

At eleven PM, Ted called from McLaren's. "Hey, Marshall, did you see Barney? He was supposed to be meeting us here after work."

Marshall yawned sleepily. He and Lil were on the couch, cuddled up and watching a bit of late night TV before bed. "Dude, he's fine. He texted me after the meeting. He's probably just gone home to crash."

"We were worried, that's all," Ted said and Marshall heard Robin's voice in the background asking if they should give Barney a call.

"No, don't call him!" Marshall wished they'd all stopped fussing. Okay, he realised he'd been fussing a little himself but, you know! "Let the poor guy sleep," he said. "He'll be impossible tomorrow anyway, telling us all how he saved the company."

Marshall heard Ted and Robin laughing.

"Yeah, even if he didn't. See you tomorrow dude."

"See you tomorrow, Ted."

Lily squeezed his arm. "At least we know what Barney does now, right?" She grinned. "I always suspected it was something really boring. Business Analyst... Lame."

Marshall remembered Barney's office - his floor carpeted with secret documents and his walls covered in inexplicable charts and graphs. He remembered how Barney had single handed-ly lit a fire under the butts of all the bigwigs of GNB. How, in twelve hours, everything had gone stir-crazy.

Not boring. Not boring at all.

*--*--*

_He's heading home, he really is. But in the way out of the building he runs into a girl he hooked up with six months ago and they end up in a bar. He doesn't talk much - his brain is still tuned in to numbers, figures, strategies. And anyway, she only wants him for sex and she doesn't have to spell that out. She talks, he doesn't listen. She tells him he's sweet and he makes her feel good. She asks him what happened last time, why they didn't "get together"? He smiles, she drags him out back and he fucks her in the alley. _

_In an hour he's back at work. _

_He zones out. _

_He snaps back in. _

_By six AM he's drawn up detailed plans for each department and the directors have several new emails waiting for them. _

_And that's when Barney knows. _

_Because it starts to hurt. _

_It hurts._

_Pills won't help him now._

*--*--*

When Marshall got in at eight AM the next day, Ted caught him on the way to his office.

"Oh my god, Marshall…" Ted was pale-faced. "Oh my god, I think GNB must be in real trouble."

Marshall's stomach sank and he gripped the back of his chair for support. "What?"

"I got here half an hour ago and all the directors are in a meeting. There's a lot of shouting. Barney's in his office and there are two dudes running messages all over the building."

"Erikson!" Bilson yelled for him.

"Gotta go, Ted! Call you later?"

Ted didn't seem to want to move. He looked desperate. Marshall could completely understand but it wasn't helping anyone if they just stood there, shell-shocked.

"Ted… work. Please? I'll see you at lunch?"

Reluctantly, Ted let him go, just as Bilson shouted for him once more. His boss kept the entire legal department on their feet for hours, this time writing contracts, reviewing clauses, filing documents, dispatching packages via their courier. By lunchtime, Marshall was ready to drop.

He was somewhat relieved when Ted came by his desk at midday with a sub and a packet of chips.

They ate their lunch in silence and it was weird but they could both feel the atmosphere change. It was like a faucet that had been turned on fully was slowly being turned off. People stopped running up and down corridors. People stopped shouting.

It was as if a huge sigh of relief had been exhaled by the entire company.

They didn't need to read the memo that was emailed around a few minutes later.

Instead, someone switched on the news and they watched it with a kind of horrified amazement.

"Sub prime disaster continues to devastate America's banking industry," MSNBC News reported. "Today, more shock news from Wall Street. This morning, the World Bank collapsed, with Goliath National stepping in with a rescue package reportedly worth billions of dollars to GNB. We have comments from the Treasury and the Federal Reserve coming up next... "

"What just happened?" Marshall asked.

"I have no idea…" Ted answered, shaking his head. "No idea. But I think we've both still got jobs."

"And then some!" Marshall agreed. "Let's asks Barney?" He suggested.

"And then buy him a drink," Ted grinned. "Whatever that dude did, we should probably thank him."

"What about all the people at World Bank?" Marshall asked.

Ted shrugged. "Them or us, man, them or us?"

Marshall frowned. Somehow he couldn't feel good about keeping his job at the expense of others.

Bilson walked past them to speak to Nolan. "I know!" He said, grinning and patting Nolan on the shoulder. "I heard about your bonus. Good job."

Nolan grinned. "Suck up. Don't think I didn't hear about yours?"

Bilson laughed and Marshall gave Ted a pointed look. "I just don't feel right about this."

Ted shrugged. "Would you rather lose your job, man?"

Marshall shook his head. He had to think of Lily, and bills and their apartment.

Bilson called out across the office. "There's champagne in Meeting room in fifteen! Come on guys, you deserve it. You too Mosby. Come on, scram!"

Ted sprang up, pulling Marshall to his feet. "Come on, let's go get Barney?"

Marshall grinned. "Okay, let's go…"

*--*--*

_He's aware, dimly, that people are a constant noise, that even after the directors stop patting each other on the back, there is still a lot of work to be done. _

_Inside he's screaming. _

_There's a point when he stops hearing the screams. _

_He carries right on working._

_Because this is what he does. This is what he does. _

_He's running on empty. _

*--*--*

They tried to get to see Barney, but there was a constant stream of people flowing in and out of their friend's office, collecting piles of paperwork. Marshall wondered if they were being filed or incinerated, since he knew that none of the Legal department were working right now. He spotted Barney, sitting on the floor in the centre of the whirlwind, jacket off, tie loosened, sleeves rolled up. He couldn't see his friend's face.

Later, after many glasses of champagne and many toasts, Ted suggested they follow on the celebrations at McLaren's and asked Marshall go pick up Barney while he went down to get his jacket.

Marshall strode down the deserted corridor on seventh, feeling a little light-headed and whistling a jaunty tune. Barney's office was the only one with the lights still on.

Marshall stepped inside, a cheery greeting dying on his lips as he saw the state of his friend.

Barney was sitting back at his desk, alone in his now-tidy office, his fingers rattling across the keys of his computer. The sound was jarring against the silence, and it put Marshall's teeth on edge.

Barney was staring at the screen, unblinking. His entire body was rigid, stiff and angular, like a petrified tree.

He didn't respond at all when Marshall spoke to him. It was as if he were hypnotised by the computer. It was as if he wasnt aware of anything else outside of the screen, which illuminated his face with an eerie blue glow.

Marshall took a step forward. He looked down at his watch. It was seven PM. "Barney… dude… everyone's gone home. Come on - we're going to McLaren's to meet up with Lil and Robin."

"Can't… stop…" Barney bit out each word.

"What?" Marshall said.

"Can't stop…" Barney repeated, as if forcing out his reply in the milliseconds between the clack-clack-clacking of his fingers on each key.

"Barney, this is stupid. You have to take a break, man. You've been on the go all day."

"Haven't… slept… since… Tuesday. Can't… stop…"

Marshall shook his head. He'd assumed Barney had gone home the night before. They all had. But Barney had been awake since Wednesday morning. It was now Friday night. Not only that, but he'd been saving all their asses.

"Barney… you're scaring me a bit."

"Marshall… I can't stop…"

There was a horrible desperation in Barney's voice, a cry for help. But how could Marshall help him?

Ted burst in the room. "Hey guys. I'm ready. You coming?" He grinned cheerfully, looking from Marshall to Barney.

"If you don't stop, what'll happen?" Marshall asked him, softly.

"Keep working…" Barney said, vaguely. Marshall could see that they were losing him again. His voice was duller. Marshall had a vision of Barney typing and typing until he literally keeled over during the night, lying cold on the floor until someone found him the next morning.

He felt sick.

In two strides he was at the desk, his arms around Barney, literally dragging him from the computer. Barney struggled like a wildcat and Marshall screamed at Ted to help. At first, Ted hung back, eyes wide with shock, but Marshall begged and pleaded, as Barney almost managed to get free and the two of them wrestled their friend down on to the floor, holding him there while he struggle and spat and swore at them.

Very quickly, Barney's strength began to wane, although he kept cursing. When he went limp, Ted looked over at Marshall, pleadingly. One of Ted's eyes was red where Barney had gotten a good punch in.

"Buddy…" Marshall said, very softly. "If we let you up, are you gonna behave?"

Barney made one last attempt to heave them both off him, then he relaxed back on to the floor. When he spoke, his voice was dull. "If you let me go, I'll be straight back on that computer. Marshall, I can't stop."

At least he was being honest. "But _why_, dude?" Marshall asked him. He didn't know what to do! Even Ted didn't know what to do? Where was Lily when they needed her?

"I don't know!" Barney's voice cracked. He tried to struggle again, fitfully, but he didn't have the strength for it. There were tears in his eyes. "Keep me here until… I physically can't…"

"Oh _man_!" Ted said. "This is horrible. We can't do this!"

Marshall looked down at Barney. He stared at the ceiling, his unblinking eyes glinting with mania.

"Did you take something to keep you going?" Marshall asked him.

"What _didn't_ I take?" Barney replied with a snort.

"Dude…" Marshall said.

"Worth it…" Barney whispered.

"Jesus Christ…" Ted said, shaking his head. "No it's _not_. Look, we know you probably saved the company today. But it's not worth killing yourself over."

"You don't understand!" Barney said, trying to get away, pulling himself out from under them. They both grabbed him as he tried to wriggle out of their grip.

"Make us understand," Marshall said, fiercely, glancing at Ted for support.

"I. Can't. Stop!" Barney screamed, shocking the both of them.

After a pause, Ted laughed nervously. "Dude, seriously…"

Marshall waved at Ted to let go so he could pull Barney around, wrapping his arms around Barney's chest, pinning his arms to his sides.

"I'm gonna let you go…" He told Barney.

"Marshall, no!" Ted said.

"Marshall…" Barney himself protested.

"Barney, you've got to trust me, okay?" Marshall tried to look him in the eye but Barney's attention was continually distracted. "Can't stop… stop… stop…" He was muttering. "Please… stop me…"

Marshall let Barney go and his friend tried to get up, struggling to his knees. Ted tried to help him but Marshall held him back. "Ted…" He said, under his breath. "Can't you see? Barney can't stop." He laughed, mirthlessly.

He let Barney stand up, swaying backwards and forward before he took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and punched Barney in the face.

*--*--*

_In the second before everything goes dark, Barney looks at Marshall and he knows that he understands. He knows that Marshall knows he's running hot. He knows that Marshall knows he's at meltdown. It's the first time anyone has ever known. _

_He's run hot before. _

_He's hit meltdown before. _

_No one's ever been there with the bucket of ice. _

_And if he could have chosen anyone, it would probably have been Marshall. _

_If only it didn't have to hurt so damn much. _

*--*--*

Barney collapsed back into Ted's arms and remained unconscious for a good ten minutes, all of which Marshall spent being yelled at by an hysterical Ted.

"Why in the hell did you do that? Oh my god, Marshall! You're a freaking animal! You've really hurt him! Oh my god, we should call an ambulance."

"Just let him be, Ted." Marshall said, pushing his best friend away. "He'll be fine. Would you rather have just sat here and watch him go insane in front of our eyes? Because that's what would have happened. He's burned himself out. He couldn't pull himself back from the hole he dug himself into."

"Boy, Marshall, are you mixing your metaphors!"

"Ted, there's a time and a place…"

Suddenly, there was a groan. Barney was coming round. When he opened his eyes, he looked terrible, exhausted, bruised and a little sheepish, but sane. "Sorry about that, guys," He said. "Where in the hell am I?"

"Your office?"

"Christ, get me out of here!"

"Certainly!" Marshall giggled. "Where would sir like to go?"

He was immensely relieved to hear Barney chuckle. "The bar, my good man!"

Marshall gave Ted a triumphant look over Barney's head.

*--*--*

In the end, they didn't go to the bar, they went to Ted and Robin's apartment instead. They sat on the sofa and waiting for Lily and Robin to get there, Marshall's arms wrapped around Barney, holding him as the spasms hit him.

"Can we _not_ do that again?" Ted asked, swigging his beer.

Marshall had never understood it. While Ted and Robin and even his wife had taken care of Barney, had slowly healed him, had worked slowly, gradually, because they believed in their friend… Marshall had always felt on the fringes. It wasn't as if he didn't believe that Barney needed saving. It was just that he didn't think Barney needed _him_ to do it.

Now Marshall knew he'd fight anyone, anything, to protect the man he held, the man who'd finally fallen asleep in his arms after three days of madness. And as he met Ted's gaze, he smiled.

Because he knew that Ted would too.


	8. Saturday Part 1

Weekdays, that is, Monday to Friday, they were Marshall and Ted's time.

Barney was inundated by lunch offers, conferences calls, dozens of drop-ins and stop-bys. Coffee, papers to be signed, questions to be asked. A hundred ways for them to check up on him, to monitor him, to make sure (as Marshall had started saying) "that Barney doesn't go nuclear".

Evenings, not every one but most of them, were group time.

Barney knew how difficult it was for Marshall and Lily to hang out every night at McLaren's considering how far away it was from their new apartment. But they did it anyway. Or, more often than not, they all end up at Ted and Robin's. The couch had become his home-from-home.

Sundays were Lily's.

She remained, unobtrusively, his running partner - criss-crossing the park with him with synchronised, heavy footfalls, ragged breaths and pounding hearts. Sunday was the day Barney let everything go - slowly, gradually, letting the tension slough away like a snake shedding dead skin. Sunday was his release valve.

Which left Saturday.

Saturday used to be his day. Barney-time. Down-time. Up-time. Sometimes both up-time and down-time, if (when) he invariably hooked up with a little hottie for the evening.

What up!

Now Saturday was becoming Robin's day.

She'd show up, irritatingly, annoyingly, (welcome-ly) and bug him. She'd force him up to 120% of awesome (because nothing less was good enough for Robin) and she'd break him out of his shell and she would strike like an arrow through the plates of his armour to skewer him.

He was getting used to the pain. He was starting to look forward to it.

Which is exactly why today, this Saturday, he was hiding out at GNB.

Barney had snuck out of Ted and Robin's apartment early (okay, four AM was probably the middle of the night, so, late?) and went into work. The trouble was that with Ted and Marshall's almost constant supervision, he wasn't ever allowed to reach _the zone_, could never concentrate for long enough to integrate himself so far into his work that he could taste it - numbers, words, data, knowledge, fluid and musical, poetic and dancing. It was like a drug and he was getting serious withdrawal. He shut himself in his office (he wasn't expecting anyone, but he felt better/safer with the door closed) and got to work. High risk/high yield, bonds and stocks, riding the freefall of this volatile market, chance, chance, chance.

Lose or win, dear god, he _loved_ gambling…

He licked his lips. Yeah, he'd forgotten the taste.

_(Danger! Danger! But alarm bells could be ignored…)_

Seconds (Minutes? Hours?) later, Robin opened the door and walked over to his desk, perching her skinny behind down at the edge of his desk. She didn't say anything but she crossed her long, long legs, letting her skirt ride up and gave him the ghost of a smile.

_(Distracting…)_

His fingers came to a halt over the keyboard.

"Lunch?" He asked her, not looking up. Damn her! He'd never get the taste back now, anyway.

She unwrapped the scarf from around her neck, giving him a glimpse of a low-cut blouse. She grinned. "I was hoping we could go shopping? For clothes…"

"For _clothes_?" He said with a snort, the computer forgotten. "I think you need Lily for that."

She quirked an eyebrow. "I didn't say for _me_…"

*--*--*

Barney followed Robin around the store, finding himself distracted, label watching, unconsciously noting cuts, lining, what each designer was doing this season. He glanced at the prêt-a-porter, sneering slightly, examine the shirts and silk ties, noting their colour, weight, thickness, pattern and selected, sifted, judged. Robin tapped him lightly on the shoulder.

"No. I get to choose…"

He rolled his eyes. "No jeans."

She led him away from the suits and (of course) headed straight towards a rack of jeans. "Perverse..." He muttered under his breath as she took her time searching through them, finally settling on one style. She gently took his hand in her own, guiding his fingers to the fabric. Soft… really, surprisingly, soft. He chuckled appreciatively as she lifted a pair from the rack.

He didn't resist her as she took his hand and led him over to the sweaters, selecting just one: Wool-rich, black, round neck and three quarter sleeves. He curled his lip and she hit him playfully on the arm. "Just try it…" She said, huskily. "Trust me."

He wasn't sure that he did. What was she up to?

Then she headed off again and he trailed after her, scowling. She found him a box of underpants, Calvin Kleins, tight-legged - she _knew_ he only wore boxers - and threw them at him with a wink.

He shook his head. "No way, Scherbatsky."

Robin laughed. "Just try them on, Barney. _Trust me_."

He frowned at her. "No way!"

She gave him a secretive smile and took a step towards him, whispering in his ear.

"The changing room is that way," She said, stepping back. He grabbed the pile of clothing from her arms and bolted across the store as fast as he could run, a huge grin on his face.

*--*--*

He hung his suit jacket over the back of a plastic chair, feeling a little hemmed in by the tiny changing room. Slipping off his pants and boxers, he quickly pulled on the Calvins. They felt… weird. Restrictive. But he could kind of see how they'd be great for his Sunday morning run.

(Not that he'd ever admit that to Robin)

He turned around, admiring himself in the full-length mirror, sucking in his stomach.

"Nice ass!" Robin said, poking her head around the curtain and making him jump.

His first instinct was to get angry and tell her to leave him the hell alone. But there was a sparkle in her eyes that got him right in the gut and he found himself grinning like a crazy person. When he did tell her to get out, it was playful. She gave him a pout and told him to call her when he was ready.

The jeans fit perfectly. The black sweater reminded him vaguely of _the Sven_ but he had to (reluctantly) admit that he looked pretty hot.

He drew back the curtain and she was standing right there, hands on her hips so that they were nose to nose.

"Mmmm," She said, appreciatively. He was an inch from kissing her when she turned around. "So…?" She said. "I guess…"

"You did promise!" He laughed.

She winked. "I'll head over to the lingerie department. Meet you there?"

"Sure."

She grinned and walked away, swinging her hips.

His eyes followed her until she disappeared into the crowd.


	9. Saturday Part 2

**Part 2**

Robin looked incredible, of course; gorgeous, lithe, beautiful but unselfconsciously so.

What she didn't look was particularly sexy. At least, not as sexy as Barney _knew_ she could look. Not as sexy as she deserved to look for her hot date.

_(there was a tiny shimmy in his stomach when he thought of her fucking someone else. He felt it through the many, many layers of armour and it surprised him. He ruthlessly pushed the feeling down because she had asked for his help and he couldn't let her down by going all Ted over her)_

"Wow!" He said with a low chuckle, a little sarcasm creeping into his voice. There was no one else in the changing room, no one to comment on how inappropriate it might be that she was twirling around in her bra and panties while he looked on.

_(he tried not to think about the strip club he should have been in right then, about the nameless, faceless girl that should have been gyrating on his lap. He tried not to…)_

"So you'll think he'll like it?" She said with a dimpled grin.

"If by _he_, you mean your eighty-year old grandfather that you're going to take for a gentle walk around the park in the afternoon before supper, then yeah." He sighed. "If you're looking to have sex with your hot date, then not so much."

"How do you know I'm looking to have sex with him?" She asked, ducking back into the cubicle. Her cheeks were flushed a little.

Barney sauntered outside, into the corridor to wait for her. When she'd gotten dressed, he gave her a neutral look and answered her question. "It's your third date and you want to buy a new bra. That means you want to show off your rack and then let him see said bra. Have you stopped reading my blog?" He grinned.

She laughed. "Fair enough. So where do I get this famous bra that gets me laid?"

They wandered through a couple of aisles of pretty underwear, Robin stopping every few yards and Barney dragging her onward.

"Balcony? With your breasts? Please. You only want him to kiss you goodnight on the cheek and hold your hand?"

Eventually, he spied a couple of bras that caught his attention. There was a theme - black, lacy, silk, push-up, plunge…

"Barney, no!"

"Trust me, Robin."

"I don't want to look like a slut!"

Barney chortled. "Please."

"But-"

"Trust me…"

*--*--*

He had to hold himself back from licking his lips and howling like a wolf. However, he couldn't stop himself giving her an appreciative whistle.

"Well, that was the reaction I was going for!" She said, standing tall with her chest thrust out. Damn, that bra did its job so well he was thinking of giving it a raise. He gave himself a mental high-five.

"Just watch out. At least get a dinner and a few drinks out of him before he gets you into a cab, back to his apartment and-"

"Barney!"

"Heh! Don't crucify him for being a dude!"

She grinned flirtatiously because, well, she was _Robin_. She didn't back down from anything. "I can't really blame him. I'll blame the bra…" She took a step closer to him.

"He's a lucky guy," Barney murmured, transfixed, tugged forward by her eyes, her breasts, her soft, soft, skin…

Robin's cell phone began to trill somewhere in the cubicle and she started, diving inside to retrieve it and answer the call.

Barney stood there, heart in his mouth, blinking furiously, still half-caught in a weird kind-of spell. He could hear her conversation, how she sounded pretty pissed and he shook himself. When she hung up, she shouted at him, over the sound of the rusting of clothing. "That was _him_! The hot date! He _cancelled_." She let out a stream of obscenities

Barney snorted. "Idiot!"

Robin laughed. "I called him a lot worse than that."

"I heard you." He grinned. She certainly knew some choice phrases.

"It's Saturday night. Did he expect me to be happy about it?"

"He's a tool. Come out with me instead? You know I'm the greatest wingman that ever lived. I'll get you someone better."

She laughed. "Yeah you will…"

When she emerged, she looked slightly dishevelled, her eyes were shining with that edge of hardness that he loved and her jaw was set and determined. Even stripped bare in that ridiculous black lace bra and panties, she'd not looked half as hot as she did in that moment.

Barney grinned. He was a hopeless case, obviously.

*--*--*

Both of them were a little drunk - he probably a bit more so than her. She'd paced herself, talking to the occasional guy at the bar, even as he'd flirted with the occasional chick himself. But they'd always circled back towards each other, dancing their strange dance until one of them could find someone to hook up with. It should have been a comfortable dance. After all, it was one they had done before.

But somehow, his timing was off, his armour was broken and everything felt different.

He should be wearing a suit.

He should be _awesome_.

Instead he was… something else.

Not that he was having any less luck with the ladies. In fact, his strike rate was a good deal higher than normal. He could probably thank Robin for that. After all, she insisted on picking all the girls he went for, just as he insisted on picking the guys for her.

"Can I ask you something?" She asked him. It wasn't late - about eleven o'clock - but he felt strangely weary. He was in that mood where usually he'd pick up the first girl he saw, go back to her apartment and nail her then leave while she was in the shower. Wam. Bam. And thank you ma'am. It would be the kind of empty sex that would make him feeling on edge, buzzing, unable to sleep.

"Huh?" He answered, shaking himself from this strangely maudlin chain of thought. "Yes, what?" He forced himself to smile. "And if it's what I think it is, then yes." He waggled his eyebrows.

"You mean you _are_ in love with Ted?" Robin said, shocked.

"What?"

"What?"

"Huh?"

"I was going to ask you if you're in love with Ted!" Robin said, matter-of-fact-ly.

Barney spluttered into his gin and tonic. He was genuinely outraged. "_What?_"

"Well, I know there's always been that weird sexual tension between the two of you and then you did sleep with him recently...."

Barney choked.

"Sexual… tension…" He managed, between coughs.

"Barney, it's okay to be bisexual." She said.

"I thought you were going to ask me to-" He said, and stopped. He couldn't quite force himself to joke with her. Not when she thought. "_Ted_? Robin, I have _not_-"

She reached forward and ran a finger over his knuckles. "Barney, it's really okay. I know Ted cares for you too. Why do you think he got so pissed with you for sleeping with me? It was jealousy! It seems so obvious to me now…" She laughed, softly. "And, you know…" She lowered her voice. "I actually think it's kind of hot. I mean…" She smirked. "Both of you guys are cute… and the thought of you two together…"

He gaped at her. She had to be joking. "You _have_ to be kidding me!" He said, shaking his head.

She held his gaze for a long, long moment, just long enough for him to have doubts, to begin to take her seriously, before she broke, roaring with laughter.

"Oh my _god_, your face!" She said, pointing at him, bent double with a fit of giggles.

He sat, frowning, letting her laugh herself out and feeling horrible inside. "In what universe is that funny?"

"In the Barney-seriously-needs-to-lighten-up-i-verse?"

He scowled at her.

"You should practice that look. I bet it would turn Ted on in the bedroom."

"Will you stop it?"

"Seriously, I love the both of you but if you keep ending up in Ted's bed, people are going to talk…"

Barney felt that shot hit home. She had a point.

"You know, he kissed me…" He blurted.

"What?" It was Robin's turn to spit out her drink.

"On New Year's day. To get rid of these three girls at my place."

"_Three_ girls?"

He ignored her. "I was having an attack. Panic attack. I wasn't exactly in a position to complain, Robin."

She gave him a half shrug. "Still, that wouldn't have gotten rid of me. I wasn't kidding when I said that the thought of you together was hot."

Barney shook his head. "That night… with Ted… and the weed…"

She gave him a flirtatious smile.

"I don't really remember much." He didn't. But what he did had been a warm, safe memory for him before now. He didn't want her to ruin it. It scared him to think that everything he'd build could be taken away so easily.

"Nothing much happened," Robin said. "We just all took off our clothes. You were really adorable. And you fell asleep on Ted the minute you hit the bed."

Barney clicked his tongue. "This is why weed sucks."

She drained her drink. "You wanna go upstairs?" She laughed.

He frowned. "I'm supposed to get you a guy, remember?"

"Perhaps I like the guy I'm already with?"

His frown deepened into a scowl. He wished she wouldn't do this to him.

"Hey?" She said. "I thought this bra was supposed to work! Don't tell me, you've grown immune to its charms?"

He didn't answer her, staring at his drink. His mind was whirling - Ted, Robin, that night when Ted had got him to smoke a joint, waking up sandwiched between them. How safe he'd felt. How right it had felt.

"Barney?" Robin said his name, sounding a little concerned.

"Hmm?"

She got to her feet. "Come on, let's go upstairs. I'll get you some coffee?"

"Is that a euphemism?" He said. Eyebrow wiggle. Leer. Part of him was going through the motions for her, to deflect her concern. But he felt as if he was leaving himself behind; leaving behind the part of him that he'd begun to build up, with Ted and Marshall and Lily's help - the guy that he'd actually begun to like.

To Robin, he'd always be the _other_ guy. Suits and booze and bimbos and jokes at his expense. Hollow and shallow and half-human. Barely there at all except for comic relief.

She rolled her eyes. "Bar-ney!" She laughed, and pulled him to his feet. "I wonder if Ted's still up?" She turned to him with a wink as they left the bar.

He followed her, wishing she'd just left him alone, with every step wanting to turn around and get a cab and hit the bars alone.

Alone.

His brain got stuck on that word.

So he followed her up to the apartment and he wondered, if it meant a night with Robin, exactly how far he'd be prepared to go with Ted.


	10. Saturday Part 3

**Part 3 **

By the time they got up to the apartment, Barney believed he could do this. He put on his game face, settled back into his armour and they went inside.

And even though his eyes felt gritty every time he blinked and everything felt slightly out-of-kilter, he couldn't back down. Robin had set the tone for the evening - flirtatious, edgy, challenging - and he couldn't help but step up to the plate.

But (damn it) he should be wearing a suit for this.

They were both surprised to find Ted, Marshall and Lily there, sprawled across the couch, a liberal sprinkling of popcorn littering the floor, indicating that they were in the middle of a serious movie marathon.

"Hey!" Lily said, struggling to her feet to give Robin a hug. She beckoned Barney in to the embrace but he only smiled and hung back. He felt suddenly felt jittery and he couldn't bear the thought of her touching him, of _anyone_ touching him.

He didn't know why he'd thought it would only be the two of them. Just him and Robin, he could cope with. But there were too many people. There were too many different expectations. He couldn't don his armour for Robin if Ted and Lily were just going to tear it off him any second.

Lily gave him a questioning glance and he shook his head. Later, perhaps in the morning, he'd talk to her.

(Although that previous Sunday, he'd practically run her into the ground and she'd been complaining about sore muscles ever since. That had prompted quite a bit of random/impromptu massage from Marshall and, just, ugh! So maybe he'd have to fly solo tomorrow. He always used to run alone…)

Robin shot him a grimace over Lily's shoulder as she span her around and he responded instinctively, understanding, flashing Robin a sympathetic smile. Then Lily pulled away and the connection was broken.

"So, you wanna join us?" Ted asked, not taking his eyes off the screen.

Barney didn't want to. He wanted to stay with Robin, just Robin. He wanted to be alone with Robin. He'd geared himself up for this and she was standing there looking confused (Concerned? Annoyed?) and he wondered what she has been expecting.

(As Robin turned around, he couldn't help but notice her figure, her shape, her skin, her _body_ beneath her clothing… He couldn't help but think about black lace and silk and wanting, wanting, wanting…)

"Hey, buddy?" Ted said when he didn't answer, looking up with a quizzical expression.

"Hmm?"

When Lily started asking Robin how their shopping trip went, Barney headed for the kitchen to get them both a beer. He opened both bottles and stood, just holding them. He didn't know what to be.

He was frozen.

It was as if there was a thick sheet of ice between him and the world.

After a few minutes, Robin joined him in the kitchen. Her expression jolted him out of his introspection. "Hey?" He said, gently, handing her a bottle of beer. Her fingers brushed his as she took it and she bit her bottom lip.

"Lily thinks I'm a bad influence on you." Robin said in a low monotone.

"What?" He let out a bark of laughter, because it was so utterly ridiculous. "_You_ are a bad influence on _me_? Oh, _please_ tell me how that works?"

But Robin wasn't laughing. She seemed to have taken the comment heart. "They think you're so fragile. Like we should all treat you with kid gloves."

He frowned slightly.

"But, I mean, that's- ridiculous…" She continued. "Today, you were completely fine. No attacks or even a hint of anything weird." Robin twisted the bottle of beer between her fingers, running a nail idly across the label.

He nodded, dumbly. What else could he do? He watched her fingers… imagined her nails running across his bare skin.

"It was great, bro-ing out with you again. You're good company, Barney." She looked up at him, searchingly.

Something inside him flickered. "Right. Yeah." Good company? All he wanted to do was kiss her… take her to bed… what the hell was wrong with him? He rubbed his eyes.

"Are you okay?" She asked him.

Why did everyone keep asking him that? He wanted to flip the switch, turn on the charm, set himself to autopilot.

(He wanted to seduce her)

He couldn't do it, not here, not in his safe place. Not with the memory of Ted's arms around him, of Marshall stroking his hair, of Lily talking him down and down and as his heart hammered in his chest and his fingertips throbbed and went numb and…

"Just tired, I guess…" He said, squeezing his eyes shut. The room spun around once, then righted itself, just as he felt her arm slide around his waist.

He opened his eyes and she was right there, in his space, close, too close. And everything that had happened that day, seeing her, being with her, wanting her, it all crashed over him. He wanted to push her away because he couldn't do this. He couldn't do this and it not mean anything!

She leaned in, that fraction of an inch, and she kissed him, very gently, very softly.

He felt himself crack, fracture, shatter under her touch, her warm, warm lips melting the ice, breaking through.

Can't-

She wrapped her arms around his neck and claimed him, captured him and it was painful because it reminded him how he hated to be petted and stroked and penned in and as much as he'd tried to surrender, to accept help from his friends, there was a deeper, darker side of him that was always there, lurking inside him, roaring to get out.

Black lace, soft skin, warm lips.

The dark thing howled.

He pushed her up against the refrigerator, his hands on her waist, his tongue darting between her lips. Everything else fell away - the tension, the jitters, the hammering heart - everything fell into place as he felt her body stiffen against him in surprise, felt her push back a little.

What did she expect?

He pulled back, just a fraction, ran his tongue teasingly between her lips, his fingers trailing up and down her sides. He held her in place without holding her at all, forcing her to surrender, despite herself.

(he was so hard, it was killing him)

He opened his eyes.

She looked… shocked… uncomfortable… confused.

Everything about her said "no no no".

He jerked away, both hands held in front of him. No weapon, he wanted her to see. _Look, I'm unarmed_. I'm harmless. I'm _sorry_.

(He wasn't harmless. He wasn't sorry)

Robin's eyes went very wide and she shook her head, reaching out to take one of his wrists, fingers closing around it as she pulled him back towards her.

"Bedroom…" She whispered in his ear, one hand sliding over his back, down to his waist, pulling him closer.

"What about the others?" He managed to say, one hand splayed beside her head, on the door of the refrigerator.

"Screw them," She said with a low, dirty chuckle.

He was close, so close. His fingers tightened, clawing at the cold, white surface. He couldn't have stopped if he wanted to.

(Did she want him? Did she really?)

"Barney…" She moaned his name, between kisses, before he silenced her, taking her bottom lip into his mouth.

(He wanted to bite down. He wanted to roar)

Everything was discordant, off kilter.

Bedroom…?

Why not here?

Then everything happened in a rush…

His hand, pulling at her skirt just as the TV volume went haywire with explosions and really loud music, masking her gasps, the sound of rustling as he hitched the material up, over her garters and around her waist. One-handed, he popped the button of his jeans, unzippered his fly and it was as if they were doing this in a vacuum - no air, no sound. Her breath was hot against the shell of his ear-

(Oh god what were they doing?)

-as he lifted her bodily, working around her panties, reaching blindly into his back pocket for a condom. Her fingers skimmed his shoulders before gripping them tightly, hanging on to him for dear life as he unrolled the latex then entered her in a single thrust. She was slick, eager, her pupils dilated as she threw back her head and gasped. He didn't hold back-

(She wants to get caught)

-as he forced his way inside her, felt her body jerk, clench around him, his muscles trembling from supporting her weight and keeping up the rhythm. His vision blurred, blood red, and the music, loud, invasive, spurred him one through gritted teeth and the need for release and there was nothing but a single wall, an open door and a few feet of air between them and their friends…

Robin's legs, wrapped around his waist, her breath, damp on his bare neck, his dick hard, so hard, inside her and everything sped up, faster, harder, harder to keep it steady, she was moaning louder, louder, not caring if anyone-

"Fuck ME!"

He came, she came, they hit the heights together, in an exquisite and all-consuming rush. She clung to him, trembling, her heart beat an echo of his own, trying to escape, trying to break free of her body.

(Peace. Silence. Calm)

His lips found the swell of her breast, where her blouse had come undone. He left wet, open mouthed kisses on her skin before raising his head to meet her blue-eyed gaze.

"Nnnnuugh!" She said, looking shell-shocked.

Slowly, he lowered her down onto the floor. He felt weak, shaken, as he reached down to pull up his jeans. She straightened her panties, pulled down her skirt.

"Uh… that was…"

"That was…"

(A huge mistake)

(Wonderful)

She smiled.

"Hey guys… You want to come over and-?"

The both started, guiltily, and looked over to see Ted in the kitchen doorway. Barney still had one hand on her waist. He didn't want to move it. Robin leaned forward and whispered in his ear. "Perfect timing."

He couldn't help but chuckle.

"Hey, what's so funny?" Ted asked, innocently.

"Nothing…" They said, in unison.

Barney felt different. Reborn. Robin's smile widened into a grin and there was the ghost of a challenge there. Ted faded into the background, became inanimate, just another one of the kitchen appliances.

She was all that mattered. Robin. Her eyes. Her smile. The spirit inside her that had delved into him and found the strength he thought he'd lost forever; lost beneath a sea of terror and fragility and mind-numbing panic.

She was under his skin now and he was under hers, no matter how fucking scary that was.


	11. And Sundays follow Saturdays Part 1

_**Note: The next two parts of Happy New Year are written by DarlingChaos**_

**And Sundays follow Saturdays**

When Marshall said he didn't want to talk about something, it usually meant he'd talk about it anyways. Loudly and repeatedly.

Lily could tell, as she and Barney warmed up in the chilly air, that something was bothering him. He seemed stiff, shaking out his shoulders and tying and retying his shoes with clumsy fingers.

"What's wrong?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

In that voice was barbed wire, chain link. That voice was made of walls, those words were bricks. He really wasn't going talk about it, whatever it was.

She let it drop. He'd tell her if and when he wanted to.

They ran four miles in silence, no sound passing between them except the thudding of their heels. He'd been pushing her harder and farther than she'd ever gone. She was getting into the best shape of her life thanks to him, but today he seemed even more withdrawn, even more numb to his own discomfort. He totally ignored the sound of her labored breathing after the five-mile mark, and didn't stop running even when she slowed to a walk, drifting back in pure exhaustion. He was running hard today, running like he was trying to escape, trying to run right out of his skin.

He ran two more miles in quiet solitude while she walked off the burn, brought her heart rate back down. She was sitting in the dewy grass, sipping on a bottle of Aquafina when he scraped to a stop in front of her.

Sweat spotted his dove gray shirt. He'd been wearing more normal clothes lately, but they were still pretty designer. He'd gone from Armani suits to Ever hoodies, still high-end, still refined.

This was a different Barney: an out-of-breath, sweaty, broken-down Barney.

This Barney wanted to talk. Cheeks flushed, breathing hard, hands on his knees Barney wanted to spill his guts.

"I had sex with Robin yesterday."

"Oh?"

"Mm—water?" She handed him the bottle and he took a long drink, draining half of it in one go. She waited while he chugged, knowing it wasn't too great for him and knowing that he knew that. He'd been running longer than her—all his life, really. In more way than one.

"In the kitchen."

"Hey!"

"It was—weird. I mean, it was fantastic. But it was… weird."

"What do you—"

"I felt so _edgy,_ I don't know why. We'd hung out all day and goofed off in the dressing room, and we got back to the apartment and I felt so—"

"You didn't have an attack, did you?"

"No. It was like I was having the opposite of an attack. I felt so… prickly. It's never been like that before."

"Barney, honey, you're starting to lose me."

He dropped the water to the ground, put his hands on his hips. Paced. Stalled for time.

"Spill, Stinson." This game was getting old. He was like one of her kindergartners; she could see he was bursting at the seams, and she knew just where to prod to make him talk. "Come on, I'm not going to get mad." She lightened her words with a bright smile, and he let his hands drop.

"I feel like I'm ripping in two sometimes. Half of me is mellowed out—and I like it. It's good, it's cleaner than what I was. It's _good._ But the other part of me—there's a part of me that _likes_ what I was before. It was a good life, in a different way. Money, suits, sex… my life rocked. I feel like I'm taking a step down on the awesome ladder, and that's so _hard—"_

"Barney, sweetie! It's not a step down, it's a step _up,_ I promise you. There's so much more to life than—"

"I _know._ You think I don't know that?"

He kicked angrily at the grass, and she frowned. "I don't know what you want me to say."

"I don't want to talk about it anymore."

He clammed up in an instant. She let it drop. No use beating her head against the wall; she'd just wait until he opened up again, just a crack.

Enough to slip her fingers in and _tug._


	12. And Sundays follow Saturdays Part 2

They swung by the church and Lily was only mildly surprised. They usually went on dates ending in "5" and today was only the eight. They weren't due for another week.

She supposed it was only to be expected. He had something to confess, and church seems a good place to do it.

They sat in the back, like always, listened to the man at the front of the room speaking. "Love deeply..." something something. The words faded in an out; she was too caught up in her evaluation of Barney to really focus.

He had his hands clasped together, elbows resting on his knees. He stared at his hands, eyes flicking up to meet the preacher's, eyes darting ceiling-wards before dropping to his hands once more.

"What are you doing?"

"Praying. Shut up, we're in a church."

He didn't pray like anyone she knew. He didn't put his palms together, or kneel, or even shut his eyes. It was like he was talking to a friend. There were a few moments of silence; then he touched his right thumb to his first finger and kissed the knuckle.

"Thanks, big guy." It was barely audible, but she heard it.

She wondered, in a flash of realization, how many times he'd turned to God when he had no one else. She'd grown up in a Jewish house, sort of. She'd never really embraced her heritage, nor turned to God for any guidance. She'd always had a friend in her brother, always had been able to turn to her parents for help or guidance. She'd never felt the need to pray for help or support; not when there were so many people surrounding her who were able to give her the same thing.

Barney hadn't had any of that.

She placed a hand on his knee, and he half-smiled at her. It was like he knew what she was thinking, and was mentally brushing off her concern. She really was a "Jewish Mother" wasn't she? She could just picture him as her child (how scary was that?) He'd be the kind of little boy who staggers home with a ripped-up pair of jeans and a bloody knee, insisting, _I'm fine, Mom. Stop hovering._ _I got this._

He'd be the kind of boy who'd douse himself with hydrogen peroxide, ride out the burn, refuse to listen or accept the hugs or concern.

She felt bad for him, really--she wanted to mother him and knew he'd never really let her. She'd have to sneak, like a ninja, stealthily offering support when she saw him cracking--which he almost never let him see.

Before all this came out. Before it was revealed how truly --and she hated admitting this; the part of her that wished she could make everything better hated admitting that she couldn't -- how truly and _irreversibly_ fucked up he was.

"Barney?"

He spilled. "Robin-- When Robin and I had sex," The word echoed dimly in the church, and he dropped his voice. "We... I don't know. I... I wanted her."

"You love her. Of course--"

"No. I mean, yeah, I do... but... Lily, I _wanted _her. I _needed_ her, right then. If she hadn't gone along with it--" He dragged a hand over his face. "Lily, I couldn't _stop. _I couldn't have stopped if I wanted to, and I _didn't want to._ It felt right. It was a rush, it was awful and scary and amazing. It felt so _good." _He dragged his eyes away from hers, and she could tell that he was filled with a mix of emotions.

She wasn't sure what to feel herself. Fear, a little bit. Worry for him, worry for the people he'd hurt in the past and might hurt later. Worried for the group; worried they would buckle under the weight of supporting him (though they'd die trying before they gave up on him.)

She put an arm around him, and felt him weaken, droop. This--whatever _this _was-- was killing him. It was going to run him into the ground if they couldn't stop it; and she didn't know how to even begin to end this.

"Barney--"

"Lily, I couldn't stop. I stopped _thinking_; it was like at work. I got in the _zone._ I got lost in my own head and I couldn't take that step back and look at things from outside that one second. In that one second everything felt right, but-- but it was _wrong. _Jesus _Christ_ it was so wrong. It was _Robin._ It shouldn't have happened like that, I shouldn't have--"

He cut off, pressing his face into his hands.

"Barney, Barney, baby, it's ok." He looked like he was about to break into pieces, and God all she wanted was to hold him together, hold him close. "It's ok. We can get through this, we can --"

"No." There was something steely in his eyes when he finally sat up and looked at her. "You've tried. I've tried, Lily and it isn't working. You can change my clothes, and I can stop drinking and smoking, and God knows what else I've given up--but it's not _working._ You can't _fix _this, Lily. So why bother?"

"Barney, _no..._" She was horrified. She could see it in his eyes; the progress he'd made crumbling like a wooden bridge licked by flames. Like the walls at Jericho, tumbling. Whatever long and twisted path he'd struggled down, he was slinking slowly backwards. "Barney-- _please,_ listen to me. We can get past this, we can--"

"No. We can't." He wouldn't look at her, and _that _was the only reason she _knew_ that he didn't fully believe what he was saying. "We tried, Lily. But I can't be cured. I'm a monster; you can't make me into anything else. I-- The only thing I can do is stop dragging people down with me."

He took a breath. "That's why I'm leaving. I'm not going to let you guys take the fall for this one, and I'm not going to let myself get near... _her_ again. I'm not going to let myself _hurt_ you guys anymore."

"Barney Stinson, cut it out."

She snapped. The loving comforting Jewish mother in her was gone, replaced by someone fierce with love. This was a love that burned like a brand.

"Don't be an idiot. You don't want to hurt us? Then you're not going anywhere. You _sit _your ass back down!"

He'd been rising, not listening to her, and her harsh words echoed in the stillness of the church. Heads turned, but she wasn't through.

"You've come too far, Barney. I'm not going to let you _do _this to yourself. You're scared. I get that. You're scared that people are going to leave you, stop loving you because they see how screwed up you are. Get this, Stinson. We already know. And you know what? We love you anyways. So you think you can take off to Pyongyang or China or Paris or wherever the hell you feel like going, and hide your head in the sand and ... and what, we won't miss you? We'll be glad to see you go? Because we won't have to take care of you anymore? You think you're too much of a headcase?

Well, you are a headcase. But you're _our_ goddamn headcase, so you go find Robin, and you tell her what you just told me. Tell her you're scared to death of hurting the girl you love, and tell her that you'd rather live alone in a foreign country than let anything happen to her. Because I _know_ you Stinson. You're not as big a jackass as you pretend to be. So cut it out, and go tell her you love her already. _Go._"

He simply stared at her with a wide-eyed expression of shock and awe.

She pointed. "Don't make me call Marshall in here for number four. Now _scoot._"

He rose and fled for the doors.

"I'm going to call you in an hour to make sure you didn't Ted out!"

He laughed. "I love you too!"


	13. The cold light of day Part 1

**The cold light of day**

Robin didn't want to admit that she was feeling a little lonely lately.

She also didn't want to admit that she'd starting having certain… feelings… for Barney. Feelings that went beyond the strictly sisterly affection she knew she _should_ have for him.

And the trouble was, when she'd seen him fray, when she'd seen him start to unravel, he'd look at her with a kind of empty longing but he never turned to her for help.

All those times when he'd been lost, rudderless, helpless, he'd never once reached out to her.

Oh, he'd reached out to Lily… to Ted… once even to Marshall-

(and Marshall wouldn't shut up about it. How he'd "saved Barney's life". They'd even coined their own phrase: Nuclear Barney. It was really starting to piss her off!)

-but never to her.

What hurt her, what really killed her, was when Ted had tackled her in the living room the previous night, telling her she was _selfish_ and to _back off_, telling her she didn't _understand_ what Barney was going through. Telling her she hadn't ever _seen_…

No, she hadn't ever seen. Because Barney had never _let_ her see. And even after she'd told herself it must be her fault, because maybe she was avoiding him… Even after she'd started forcing her way back into his life, invading his weekends, making a space for herself…. Even then, she could feel his distance. She could feel Barney, always closing himself down from her in a way that he never did with Ted or Lily.

She couldn't reach him.

But something drove her on regardless. Something handed her an ice pick and helped her chip, chip, chip away at the solid, frozen wall between her and him. In fact, yesterday she had sworn he'd started to loosen up, to get back into his own skin, his old, familiar self. She'd seen him laugh, properly laugh, for the first time in weeks.

And then, suddenly, he'd closed down on her again. As inexplicably as ever, his expression had frozen, his eyes had dulled and he'd withdrawn from the field of combat without a single explanation.

Robin had tried prodding and poking and teasing him. She'd even voiced her fear (a real fear) that Barney had somehow developed a thing for Ted. But she had struck the brick wall again and it chilled her to the bone.

What the hell was wrong with him?

And, come to think of it, what the hell was wrong with _her_? Was she really that much of an ice queen (she knew she wasn't - she _had_ loved, long and deeply) that her friends turned away from her at the time of their greatest need?

Something twisted inside of her. It was horrible. It hurt.

Robin didn't want to admit that it was possible that she needed Barney Stinson far more than he'd ever need her, that this was more than just a stupid crush. That scared her more than anything.

Yawning, she pushed herself out of bed. Robin hated how much it hurt her that Barney didn't stay the night. Of course, she'd given him no encouragement but, just for once, it would have been nice if he could have read her mind. He always stayed over for Ted. The couch had begun to develop dents from where his body invariably lay, hip bone, elbow, knees, curled up and comforted. He'd often said that he didn't want to be alone, not when he felt an attack might be near.

It was ridiculous and irrational, Robin knew that, but it felt to her like Barney always stayed for the others but he didn't stay for her. They'd had sex, they'd laughed about it afterwards and she'd felt something claw its way under her skin. But he hadn't stayed. He should have stayed.

She wondered what had happened to him after he'd left the apartment. Where did he go? A strip club? A bar? Another woman, after what had happened between them?

He could have stayed with her. He didn't have to go looking elsewhere. Wasn't it better with her? Didn't they share something above and beyond a mindless hookup with a nameless, faceless bimbo?

Robin headed for the shower.

There had been a moment, after Barney had pushed her against the refrigerator door and crushed her lips with his, there had been a moment when he'd drawn back and she'd not been sure that he would back off even if she wanted him to. There was something frightening in his eyes - something angry and hungry and… needing her.

Even so, she couldn't bear to turn him away.

Robin wandered into the deserted living room, littered with empty beer bottles and popcorn and plastic food packaging and she collapsed on the couch, wrapping her robe tightly around her.

She took a deep breath and looked up, over towards the kitchen.

She closed her eyes with a sigh and silently shook her head. Yep, you could definitely see a lot from here, from this angle.

Their friends would have seen (mostly) everything.

And, yes, she had clutched at Barney, hoping he'd let her get close. And yes… she had smiled as he walked out the door, she had forced the smile to remain as their tenuous connection snapped clean away. She had smiled to cover up the sharp, unexpected pain she'd felt and could never articulate.

Today, Sunday, was Lily's day. Her turn with him. The day they went for their run. It wasn't even worth texting him.

Robin did so anyway. It was the normal thing to do.

For normal, read: Cold, empty façade.

Lily got to spend time with Barney. Ted and Marshall got to spend time with Barney. Robin didn't want to claim any ownership of him. Sex didn't make him hers, it never would. She had no right to be jealous.

Then why did she feel like her heart was on fire?

_Suck it up, Scherbatsky_, she told herself. _This is what you're good at. Avoid the pain, protect yourself. If Barney knew you were thinking this, he'd call you pathetic. _

And then he'd probably call Lily. Or Ted. And talk things through with _them_, asking for _their_ advice.

Robin suddenly felt enraged, angry at everyone, irrationally blaming _them_ for changing Barney, for smothering him, baby-ing him. He was an adult, not a kid. He was a man…

"Hey," Ted called out to her from his bedroom door.

Robin looked up, glaring at him before she could master her emotions. "What?"

"Uh… is there any… coffee?" Ted said, picking up her vibe from across the room.

She shrugged as her phone buzzed against her leg. She could see it had a message from Barney and, for a moment, she hesitated opening it.

When she did, the message made her smile. It cut through her pain into the quietly joyful place inside her that was reserved for him - fenced off and labelled with his name.

Damn it, could she tell him how she felt…? How she was beginning to feel?

"So, you and Barney hooked up again?" Ted said, startling her out of her reverie.

Robin looked up at him sharply, despite having worked out that Ted would know what had gone on. "Oh god… you saw?" She managed, sheepishly.

"We… averted our eyes!" Ted collapsed on the seat next to her, twisting his body to face her.

"Look, it's none of your business…" Robin began, then realised it was useless saying that to _Ted_. "Okay, okay. I don't know, it just sort-of… happened."

"Robin, I love you. I love Barney. I just don't want to be the one who has to pick up the pieces of a broken heart…" Ted shook his head sadly.

"Ted, Barney's not going to break my heart-" Robin began and Ted gave her a very confused look but she ploughed on. "You think I'm that naive?" she continued. "I know how he operates, more than anyone…"

"So why did you do it?" Ted asked.

"I don't know! It just-"

"Happened? You said that already. Robin," Ted frowned. He wasn't exactly being hostile but there was an undercurrent to his words.

"Are you upset, because of the… bro… thing? Because of us…?" Robin asked. Men were so complicated sometimes, especially Ted. Some of his emotions were completely unfathomable to her.

"No… No… That's… a long time ago." Ted sighed. "It's just…"

"Look.... Ted... we just... had a great day, okay? Barney and me," Robin tried to articulate how she felt, why she'd acted the way she did. But she secretly worried that there was no rational explanation that would ever satisfy Ted. "And he was sweet and funny and charming and…" She shrugged helplessly. How could she ever tell Ted about the black pit of desire and burning desperation in her belly, about how Barney had just done everything so… perfectly. How he'd given her exactly what she needed. How she'd gotten totally lost in him, to the point where she'd have done pretty much anything he'd asked. How, in that moment, she'd decided to do something stupid...

Ted frowned. "Look, I'm not trying to judge you…" He said, in his best _I am totally judging you _voice. "It's not about the sex. It's about… Barney's very influenced by you. You have this… power... over him. And if you encourage him to stay up late in bars and pick up random girls… soon he'll be back to suits and over-work and panic attacks and…" Ted shook his head. "Out of all of us, you're the one who has the most chance of fixing him, of helping him…"

Robin shook her head, completely bewildered. Then she laughed. "My _god_, Ted! What the hell are you talking about?" Ted opened his mouth as if to speak but she cut him off. "That's ridiculous! Barney doesn't listen to me! I had to literally give him a strip show just to get him to put on a pair of jeans! And sex doesn't mean fixing him, if he even _needs_ fixing. He's not as vulnerable or damaged as you all seem to think he is!"

Again Ted tried to interrupt but Robin had a pound of bile sitting in her stomach and it was ready to burn its way through. "What happened between me and Barney really _isn't_ any of your business, Ted. And if you say anything to Barney about it, so help me god…" She struggled to get up, her emotions all awry. She hated herself like this. She hated losing control like this.

She escaped from Ted's reaching hand and retreated to the safety of her bedroom, throwing on the first clothes she could find. She just had to get out. She had to get out.

She stormed out of the apartment, completely forgetting that she'd left her cellphone on the couch next to Ted.


	14. The cold light of day Part 2

**Part 2**

There's an agonizing throb in his leg and Barney stumbles as he mounts the steps, hand scraping harshly on the bricks as he flounders for something to grab on to. There isn't anything, and he ends up leaning against the wall, one hand pressed to his thigh. It's the break in his femur that he'd thought had healed. Barney guesses that today's run has shaken something loose; there's a pin in there somewhere, holding the bone together and it aches when the mercury falls too far.

It _really_ hurts, sharp and piercing, like the surgeon left a knife in there while stitching him up. Barney curses that idiot bus driver for the thousandth time, because he knows that for right now, endorphins are swimming through his bloodstream, but as soon as they wear off, the pain is only going to get worse. What he really needs is his meds, but those are back at his apartment and if he leaves now, he'll lose his nerve entirely. What he _should_ do is pop some pills, take a cab straight to Queens and get a two hour massage. Get someone to pound him on him till he melts into the table (what up). What he does instead is grit his teeth, push through the pain. He forces himself up the stairs, one foot at a time. Right, then left, hand pressing hard on the wall as he eases himself upwards. It's like when he runs, one foot falling in front of the other until everything else falls away. This is sort of the opposite; everything is washed out not by the rush of the run but by the pain in his legs and his head and his soul: he can feel something building up that he hasn't felt in weeks.  
This can't be happening. Not now. He shoves those feelings away, pretending that his fingers aren't tingling and that nothing could possibly go wrong.

*--*--*

Robin swallows a gulp of coffee. She's been flip-flopping over this decision so long that her coffee's gone lukewarm, leaving a bad taste in her mouth. She's always been the kind of person to keep her cards close to her chest. This isn't who she is, she's not a Ted. She's not the kind of person to pine after someone, or the kind of person to ache after being brushed off. But still… She really, really wishes he'd spent the night, or at least said something before disappearing through the door. She knows she's stumbled over something; when he left he took her shields with her and she's seeing things clearly for the first time. Can she do this? She's not even sure what the hell she's feeling, but she knows it's something and if she says out loud too soon, then it'll all become real. Can she afford that, when she's still not sure? Can she really tell anyone, let alone him? Can she put herself out there, put her heart on the line so completely?

Because she knows she can't do this half way. Robin knows that once she starts to delve into these emotions she's been keeping under wraps, these clandestine feelings that have been building inside of her… then it will all have to come out. She wishes it were different. She wishes she didn't care this much. She's never been that person, and she doesn't want to start now-- there's too much to lose. She could lose Barney completely. It's just too much. She can't risk it. She always played it safe. She keeps her heart safely under lock and key, behind walls and out of harm's way. The trouble is with putting a padlock around your heart though… it kind of leaves you on your own.  
And now that she wants to let someone else in, let some of her guard down, she doesn't even know how. It's like she's accidentally sealed herself up too entirely; she's blocked over the emergency escape and she's trapped. She's never been the princess in the tower, waiting for some handsome man to free her.  
But now, she just might have to wait for him to make the first move - something she knows will never happen. Because it was just sex to him. Why else would he have taken off like that? It didn't mean anything to him—even though it meant everything to her. She's not about to make an issue out of nothing, risk losing one of her best friends over her emotions and her… weakness.  
For the sixth time in five minutes, she changes her mind. She's not going to talk to him about it.  
She is.  
She's not.  
She has to.  
She can't.  
"Oh, God," she groans, because she can't handle this on her own. She gets up to tip her coffee down the sink because the caffeine is starting to make her head spin—or at least that's what she tells herself. Blame the coffee.

*--*--*

The pain gives Barney focus, even though he finds himself limping and wishing for the first time he still had that awful cane they'd given him at the hospital: the one with four little feet and a twisted handle. He'd abhorred it from the minute he'd seen it, but now he wishes he had its relentless support. He's sort of feeling like he'll fall over at any minute, and needs something, _anything_ to keep him upright.  
At the same time, he relishes the pain. It's good, because he needs a bit of fucking self-flagellation right now, to wake him up, to cleanse him, to set him straight. He's so muddled by confusion, contradictory impulses. There's this tingling in his fingers and behind his eyes and it's making everything fuzzy; the pain is sharp and cuts right through all that mess. It helps him keep his eyes focused on Ted's door - Robin's door.  
He's climbed two flights of stairs on what feels like a broken leg, and every inch of him is screaming that he needs to stop, to lie down, to float away on a haze of drugs. But he pushes onwards, driven on by that white hot anger deep within that he usually contains so well. This morning's run has lowered his defences; the insulation has vanished from the wires, leaving him a bundle of raw sparking emotion. Lily hit him hard. He's not sure if he hates her or is grateful for it. He'll know in a minute, apparently, because he's at the door, feeling breathless and on the verge of… something.  
He's promised Lily something he may not be able to deliver. He probably won't be able to deliver. He's a screw up. His record with women is about as bad as it's possible to get. He's promised to tell Robin that he loves her, and he will - as soon as he can wrap his own head around it. He's known for a while now, yeah, but it hasn't really struck him.  
Saturday it struck him, it really hit him and left him winded, doubled over. He loved her so much it ached: when he'd lost control and pushed into her, violently, it was like he was killing a part of himself. Each kiss and touch burned like a brand; he felt so guilty, because she mattered. She was the most important-  
His brain abruptly cuts off as he pushes the door open and comes face to face with-

*--*--*

The door swings open and Robin almost can't force out the words.  
"I really need to talk to you."  
She's made up her mind. She's not going to say anything.

*--*--*

Barney steadies himself, locking his knees against the terrifying tornado of emotions, whirling thoughts. His eyes meet dark eyes, he takes in a mildly curious face, dark hair, flushed cheeks.  
He closes his eyes, musters his courage, chokes and pushes the words past the lump in his throat. "I really need to talk to you."

*--*--*

"Of course, honey!" Lily says, smiling encouragingly and collapsing on the cushion next to her. "What is it?"  
Robin bites her bottom lip. This isn't going to be easy.

"What's up, buddy?" Ted says, leaning on the doorframe. "Hey, you okay?" He frowns, taking in Barney's flushed appearance, the pain etched into his features. The sweat on his brow and the way he's shifting his weight awkwardly.  
Barney smiles, if a little weakly. "Where's Robin?"  
"She's gone to Lily's. Why, what's up?"  
Barney scrubs one hand over his face. "Ted- I… Jesus, Ted, I need to tell someone because-"  
"What is it? What's going on—are you ok?"  
"I'm in love with her."

*--*--*

"I'm in love with him."  
Lily's hands are pressed up to her mouth and her eyes are dancing with glee. "What?!"  
"Jesus, Lily, don't make me say it again. I—I don't know." Now she's said it, it's out there, it's out of her control and she's tumbling in space without a tether.  
All the oxygen is running out.  
"Ok, well, what's the problem?" Lily uses that voice, that school ma'am voice. The voice which must be obeyed.  
"The problem is he's never going to feel the same way. I mean, we hooked up the other day-"  
"I know. I was there."  
Robin's cheeks flush with embarrassment. She can't bear it, suddenly - this inevitability of decision/consequence. She wants things to be logical and orderly. She needs to be able to _understand_. She always needs to be able to understand things, people… but you can't rationalise emotions. She isn't cold, she really isn't, she's just scared of getting burned. Better to ice things over than risk it all. She just has to show Lily how much it hurts her. "I don't know, he was so… remote… afterwards. He wouldn't even… He just took off. I mean, what kind of guy- No. I know what kind of guy. The kind of guy that doesn't give a fuck. I mean, he obviously doesn't care at all and it's stupid of me to even hope-" Why is she so angry? Why now? Why not when he walked out last night? Why didn't she scream and cry at him then when it would have made a difference?  
"Oh, Robin… Oh, sweetie." Lily's smiling at her, laughing, even!  
"What?! What, Lily, tell me now or I swear-"  
"It's not that he doesn't care. He does."  
"How could you possibly know that?" There's only so far that empathy can take you, after all.  
"He told me."  
Robin freezes. Time stops, ice crystals form in her lungs and centuries pass before she gets the word out. "What?"  
"Barney told me. A few months ago. He's head over heels in love with you, and the only reason he hasn't said anything is that he's terrified of scaring you off."  
Robin's got a million and one thoughts rushing through her mind, but the one that sticks out the most is _no freaking way!_ No freaking _way_ she's been going through this mental torture for the last twenty-four hours over nothing!  
"Son of a _bitch_."


	15. The cold light of day Part 3

**Part 3**

Barney's on the couch with his hands to his face, and Ted's just lounging in the chair, feeling a little overwhelmed by the irony of it all. The womanizer's fallen hard and fast and is scared out of his mind. It's like the plot of a bad Lifetime movie.

"What do I do, Ted? You gotta help me!"

"What do you do? You _tell her_!" It's kind of sweet and a little pathetic but Ted feels like he's holding Barney's hand here, giving him an A-B-C primer on love.

"I wanted to!" Barney says desperately. "I came over here to tell her. But… now I'm not so sure. Maybe the fact that she's not here is a sign? This wasn't meant to happen. And come on, it's never going to happen. Why the hell would she ever want me? I'm … I'm a mess, Ted, for God's sake. Just look at me: I'm a wreck!"

"That's what being in love does to you."

Barney seems thoughtful, looking off to the side. Ted realizes that he's gone down this road before and come out the other end a little worse for the wear when he says, "I'm not so sure I'm ready for that. Not after-"

Not after Shannon . Not after the endless flood of bimbos, who come and go and don't stay long enough to hurt him, to matter.

Robin matters, Ted realises. And for some reason, that makes him smile.

*--*--*

"Lily, what do I do? I can't talk to him about this."

"You have to."

"No, I mean… I know I do. I've wanted to. But I can't. What if—"

Lily sighs in frustration. She feels like she's going in circles here, trying to help a dog catch its own tail. "Look, Robin, I just had this same conversation with Barney this morning. I can't really go through the whole thing again, so I'll give you the short version. You know you love him. You now know he loves you. What's the problem? Go tell him that you love him, and that's the last piece of the puzzle. Everything fits together neatly and my friends stop acting like head-cases. How does that not make sense to you?!"

Robin doesn't answer for a moment. She frowns, looking a little bewildered. "Because… Because he's _Barney_." She said, as if that explained everything. "What if he's been holding back because he thinks I'm-? Oh god, what if he's changed his mind? Lily, how can I be sure?"

"You can't. But that's part of the deal. You can't have one without the other."

"You can't have what without what?"

"You can't have reward without risk, you can't have love without fear. I don't know, Robin, it's just a metaphor. Go with the flow here. Loosen up. Do what feels right."

"What _feels_ right?"

"Yes. What do you want?!"

She thought about it for a long, slow second. "I want… Barney."

"Then go get him, babe. I'll call a cab."

*--*--*

Barney's working himself into a frenzy and, despite Ted's best efforts, he can't seem to calm him down. He should have seen this coming but they've all allowed themselves to soften up. It's been so long since anything like this has happened; they're out of touch.

"Barney, where are your pills?"

"At home, everything's at home. I went running. Didn't bring them with me."

"Oh-" Ted curses himself for not keeping something here at the apartment. It's stupid, when Barney's spent so much time here. "Breathe, Barney."

The door swings open, and Barney's eyes widen, huge and dark with pain, whipping towards the entryway.

Robin's standing there, clutching her purse like a shield, Lily's hopeful face shining behind her shoulder. Her eyes flicking from Ted to Barney in a split second.

"Robin?" Ted says, with a smile. Perfect timing.

*--*--*

Not now, not now, not now. Now is a bad time to start this.

"Barney, we need to talk."

He can't handle this now. _Pleasepleaseplease_ stop talking. Everything is fluttery, fragile, and if she says one more word it's going to break.

Everything tingles; his eyes and the palms of his hands, and he's so _frightened_ that she's going to say something vicious, something sharp, something _finalcuttingkillingstabbing_.

She's going to slice his heart out, isn't she? Isn't she? She is, he just knows it. She's come here to murder him, shut him down, and _ohmyGOD_ he can't do a damn thing about it.

"It's about yesterday-" She begins, and that's all she gets out before he dissolves with a strangled howl.

The fear rips through him; his heart launched into triple-time. His vision's flashing as though the world has gone Technicolor and strobe-lit at the same instant; all he wants to do is run, escape this. There's no escape.

It's hot, it's cold, he trembles and shakes and chokes and everything spins. His chest hurts like there was something trapped inside of it, struggling to break free of his ribs.

It's too much, he's going to die—he's going to _diediediedie_.

He drops to his knees and the world fades into white noise.

*--*--*

Robin sees the instant that his final wall crumbles, sees past his failing defences, his shattering barricades. In his panic-stricken eyes, she sees the maelstrom he's been holding back all this time. He wasn't trying to block her out. He wasn't ever trying to block her out.

He was trying to protect her. All this time.

Ted moves forward, far too slowly. He's too far away. Before her brain can catch up with her mouth to shut it down, she watches as Barney topples forward. It's maybe one millisecond before her muscles obey but it feels like an eternity. Then, she's on the move, diving to the floor, falling so hard that she jolts one knee and it goes numb. The pain is nothing to the shock she feels, the horror she feels at seeing Barney fall.

He's falling.

Not physically, not any more. She shoves Ted away with her shoulder, as he gets there too late, both arms going around Barney, tight, so tight. She's never reached out like this to anyone before, not so quickly, not so viscerally; she's never launched herself beneath someone to save them, cushion them. She holds him as he shakes, she feels every bone, like a baby bird. She's never been this person. Never been the one to count on. Even with Katie it was all about being teaching her independence, giving her good advice and letting her be herself.

She's never torn herself open before, just to give another human being warmth.

But she doesn't even consider the consequences. She doesn't for one moment hesitate, doesn't ask herself what this means. Because this is Barney and he's falling and she has to catch him because he'd been doing this for her all along.

He's been holding it back, all along, just to keep her safe from the darkness.

How could she have been so stupid not to see it?

*--*--*

It feels weird to be on the outside again, Ted thinks. Lily crouches down next to Robin and murmurs soothing words in her ear and he realises that it would never have occurred to him to try and give her comfort, that through doing that, Lily might actually help Barney too.

"Come on, baby, breathe. Remember what Grossbard said?"

"Fucking idiot—"

"Come on, honey. Breathe with me. One—two—"

Barney's breathing is erratic and rushed; sweat is shining on his skin and he's flushing bright red.

Ted heads for the kitchen, feeling strangely ostracized and skittish, wanting to help but not wanting to feel like he's intruding. He can tell a mother-earth moment when he sees one. He runs a clean dishtowel under cold water, squeezes it out and eventually makes his way back into to living room.

"Here," he says gently. Lily is sitting with her back against the couch, her hand on Robin's back, fingers splayed like a benediction. Robin's got hold of Barney and Ted can see his face, eyes screwed tightly shut and jaw clenched, like he's going through hell and there's no release, no respite. Ted can't stand to see it. Ted mimes dabbing it gently against Barney's cheeks, his neck, and Robin copies the motion—Barney always complains about the prickly heat that spreads over his skin during an attack. Lily's holding one of Barney's hands, stroking the palm with her thumbs. His fingers flex and relax, flex and relax. "Barney? Can you stand up?"

The only response they get is a frantic shake of Barney's head, and a jump in his breathing.

"Come on, Barney. Slow down. Breathe deep, ok? Slow it down."

"If he doesn't calm down soon he's going to make himself sick." Ted whispers to Lily as Robin coaches Barney through deep breaths. It's working, slowly. "Why don't we get Barney to bed?" Ted suggests. "He'll be like this for a while and it'll be better if he's more comfortable.

Lily nods in support and Robin slowly turns her head, her eyes blank and exhausted. "Robin, you too," Ted blurts. "I mean-"

"We know what you mean, sweetie," Lily says, getting to her feet. "Ted's right. It isn't good for either of you to be sitting on the floor like this."

She gently encourages Robin to release her grip on Barney just enough to let Ted helps her lift him to his feet. Barney is a dead weight until he opens his eyes, one of them twitching spasmodically. He's still down deep, Ted realizes, and between them they manage to get him into Robin's room and on to her bed before he comes to fully.

There's no discussion that it's Robin's room they bring him too. She's stuck on Barney like a limpet and her door is closer to where Barney collapsed. It's just… Ted doesn't know how to deal with this development. He doesn't know if it's a good thing or if it's a terrible, terrible mistake. He's seen Barney crash before—hell, he's even held him through his worst attack in a year. Still, it always scares him. What is this going to do to Robin, who's never had to see this? What is it going to do to Barney, when he has to put her through this again and again?

Because the attacks will keep happening, Ted's sure of it. You can't change a person overnight. They can patch him up and chill him out and give him the occasional joint and even punch him out when he goes nuclear but what's broken in Barney will take years to heal.


	16. The cold light of day Part 4

**Part 4**

Barney feels like stone in Robin's arms, like he's been petrified. He feels rigid, like classical sculpture of a poet or someone from ancient times. His skin feels cold, every muscle is locked solid. It's like trying to breathe life into rock.

But Robin holds him anyway and sometimes she takes his hand or his arm and she tries to rub some life into the flesh, tries to transfer some of her life into his statue of a body.

Slowly, far too slowly, there's a thaw. Something in him shifts and cracks, and he begins to melt. Robin feels the mattress move beneath her, feels him loosen. She desperately wants to talk to him, to reassure him, but instinctively she knows that he won't understand her words.

He's a caveman right now. He can only comprehend warmth and comfort and he wouldn't be able to process anything more. But he's evolving. Robin saves her words for when they'll be needed.

But she does consider what she'll say.

She's seen him now, at his very worst. She's stood against the tide and not faltered. She's seen his demons and she's still here, a little bruised, a little tired, a little frightened out of her mind - but still here, still by his side.

How can she possibly articulate how that feels? She understands now, why he never tried to explain his condition to her. Why he blocked her out, refused to let her see him fall. The words to express his torment have not been invented.

Maybe the cavemen had a word for it? That terrible, clawing darkness that sent them running in packs away from the ghosts and the spirits and the gods. Sent them huddling together around their fires, drawing their clan near?

Maybe the word has been forgotten.

Robin wants to reach out for him as his body moulds itself against her, as he leans instinctively into her embrace. She wants to, but she doesn't want to frighten him. Trouble is, she's never really helped Barney through an attack before, so she worries that she's done everything wrong. Should she have grabbed him like that? Held and restrained him? It had felt so right at the time because the look in his eyes... well, it had been like he was falling to pieces and she'd held him together… hadn't she?

Now she's terrified that she's somehow made it worse but she has no way of knowing for sure. She's never seen Barney like this, she has no frame of reference. So she curls like a question mark next to him in her room and silently begs him to come back to her.

Finally, he takes a gulp of air, like a newborn baby's first breath. Robin wonders how he survives these attacks. She actually wonders if he _does_ survive them. She wonders if each one damages him in some way that is irreparable.

"Oh… oh, boy…" He mutters, a while later. He shifts out from under her loose embrace, her barely-there arms. "Robin?" He says, surprised. She feels him tense from confusion, disorientation. It must be like drowning, she thinks, and not knowing which direction is up. It must be awful

"Hi, there…" She says, fingers tracing his brow-line, wiping away the beads of cold sweat that still linger there.

"Am I dead?" He asks her. In that moment, he's young again. He's a six year old kid who's confused and lost and doesn't know where he is.

"No," Robin says, kissing him on the nose. "You're fine."

He gives her a half-smile and he evolves. She sees the weight of him settle back in, the wildly firing electrons gather back into a leisurely orbit. His eyes even seem to change colour, the darkness fading out slowly like a night sky before a sunrise. The blue creeps back in from the edges, where the pupils had dominated only moments before, huge and disc-like. His laughter lines reappear around his eyes, his brow furrows. He's not entirely pleased she's here. He's worked so hard to keep this side of himself from her, and here she is, right in the middle of his most private territory.

"Bad attack?" She says, keeping her voice as light as she can.

"You could say that…" He pulls back a little, as if realizing for the first time how close they are. He's lost his innocence. He's grown up. He's a twenty-first century fucked-up metro man again and he's retreating back into his shell and she doesn't want to lose him, lose whatever it is she's just barely touched.

Robin doesn't let him go, but she gives him a few inches of wriggle room, letting him know that he could get away if he wanted. There's a beat in which he seems to reconsider before wrapping his four fingers around the curve of her waist.

Contact. It's warm and comforting and it's barely-there, but it's still exactly what she needs, what she aches for inside.

"We need to talk…" He says, but he sounds like he's wrung dry.

"Yeah," she agrees, "But later. Get some sleep." She smiles at him as he turns on to his back without complaint, so thoroughly exhausted. His eyes drift close, and she misses their connection, their silent union. With his eyes still shut, he reaches out a hand. Needing her close.

"I'll be here when you wake up," she whispers, linking her slim fingers through his.

*--*--*

Ted drops heavily into the red sofa, one hand rubbing at the back of his neck.

"You OK?" Lily's concerned and semi-curious, knowing the answer before she asks.

"No- it can't go on like this. It's too hard."

There's a beat before she answers. "On Barney? Or on you?" She scrutinizes him for a long minute, and he feels like he's the kindergartner who's been caught lying about stealing some candy or something. Caught…

"On Barney! On everyone." He admits it after a moment. "Of course it's hard on me. He's one of my best friends."

Lily folds into the couch, legs tucked up and arms crossed. She's done this so many times when fretting over credit card debt, coaching Marshall through another day at the nightmare he calls work. It's her safe haven, this room with its energy and its clutter and it's vibe. No matter what happens, things will be ok, because they have each other and they have this place.

It's a safe place—for her, for Barney, for everyone. It's a centre and they gather here. "Ted-"

He's anxious and exasperated and tired of putting up with it; not because he doesn't want to help, but because he wishes he didn't have to. He wishes his friend were whole, not broken. "I don't know what we can do. They can adjust his meds, give him stress-relieving techniques… I don't know. Whatever it is that they do for people like him. But it's treating a symptom. It doesn't fix the root of the problem—it's… it's not going to cure him."

"Give it time."

"How much time, Lily? He's what, thirty four? How long does he have to deal with this?"

"Ted, I don't know! I don't know—"

"Because this isn't new. You know that. It isn't even because of the bus, and Jesus, Lily, that was a year ago. This goes way back. There's stuff about Barney we don't know, I just know it. And whatever it is, it's fucked him up big time, and I don't think even time can-"

"Ted, he'll be OK." Lily's twisting the edge of the pillow in her hands and, if it were paper, it would have disintegrated eons ago. She's done this so many times.

"How can you possibly believe-" he starts to shout as the frustration gets the better of him. But then cuts off, quiets himself. The walls are thin, after all, and Barney's already on edge, hovering over something dark and deep.

"I don't know, Ted, but I have to believe!" She presses her hands to her face. She seems to use the silence to pull herself back together; to re-centre. "I have to believe that he'll be OK, or I'll go crazy. I'm not stupid. I'm not naïve. I know what we're up against - all of us. This is huge. This is bigger than - It's bigger than Barney, it's bigger than the group. It'll need more than just us to fix. But I have to believe it can be fixed or I'll just… lose hope. You can't lose hope, Ted, you can't let that happen, or what's left?"

"Lily, these attacks, they're getting worse. You can't just hope them away."

"Ted Mosby, don't you think I know that? Don't you think-" She pauses, takes in a shaky breath. "I know more than I think even you do. Did you know that he calls me?"

"He what?"

"At night. Late at night. He has nightmares and he'll call me and we'll just leave the phones on and running, for hours. You think I don't know what he's going through? You think I don't know that this can't just… be what, wished away? I know, Ted, because I was there when he exploded. And all I can do is try to piece him back together, and I know it might not work, but I have to hope that it will."

Ted flexes his hands. He aches to do something. There's so much he wishes he could be doing—fixing, patching, sewing, gluing, putting-back-together.

Because his best friend is broken, like a forgotten toy. And the fact that there's nothing he can do—it frightens him.

What if Barney goes too far? What if—what if—what if—

He's on the mend, yeah, and there's all those proverbs and crap. It's darkest before the dawn. It'll get worse before it gets better.

Ted knows there's a chance it won't get better. It could just get worse and worse. He can't bear the thought of that; he wants to fix this.

He just doesn't know how.

*--*--*

When Barney opens his eyes, Robin can't help but stare, searching his gaze for that elusive thread again. He blinks sleepily and it's with some relief that she sees him soften and she smiles

"Hey." She says, trying to draw him in. After all, she seen all he's got now - that attack, that _explosion_ (she hates to admit how appropriate the word "nuclear" seems to her now) - the way it wrecked him, mentally and physically. So she doesn't move forward, doesn't move back. She's there for him and he has to set the pace.

Barney takes a deep breath, as if he's going to speak, but then he lapses into silence again. Finally, when he does speak, he sounds different. It reminds her of when they went to dinner one time, just the two of them. And for a moment there was a tone in his voice, so unlike him, so defeated, so different from his essential Barney-ness - carefree, spirited, passionate. He sounded _beaten_, like a fighter who'd been kicked in the ribs and is struggling to rise from the floor, weakened and bleeding and trying so hard to not give in. To recover- to win this, to beat the odds.

"So…" Barney closes his eyes briefly, as if he's steeling himself to let her down gently and it scares the crap out of her. Her stomach drops like she's on a fairground ride. "So… this thing… _us_...? Being with you…? It's too confusing. I can't- _We_ can't…" He shakes his head and starts again but she's already got the message and it sends her into a tail spin, whirling, barely hearing him over her own panic: He doesn't want her. _Oh god_, he doesn't want her. He doesn't love her. Lily was wrong.

"This is _me_," Barney continues, although it's less about his actual words than his tone. "This is the real Barney Stinson: Fuck Up of the Century. It hurts too much, Robin. I'd end up hurting you. I couldn't bear-"

And the tears come from out of nowhere. One minute her insides are clenching and the next she's crying and all she can say is "But I love you!". She says the words she thought she would never, _ever_ say to him, all in a rush and all at once. She stammers. "D-don't push me away, Barney. Please?"

This cuts him dead and for a moment, while he opens and closes his mouth like a fish flapping about on dry land and then there's something like hope in his eyes, something _happy_, and Robin wonders how long it will be till he kills that feeling under the weight of his own pain.

But he doesn't. He doesn't withdraw. He says, in a little-boy voice "You _love_ me?" as if that makes it all better. He says it with wonder in his eyes. He says it as though it's all that matters to him, as if it's the only thing that matters to him in the world.

Robin wants to grab that moment and hold it close because she knows that if she wants Barney, if she's really serious about this, then that look is going to have to keep her going her through some pretty tough times.

"But there's just so much wrong with me." He says, frowning, straining to find the words. "What if I hurt you, Robin?"

The way he says her name grabs her right in the gut. There's longing there - an almost overwhelming need. Jesus… how long has he kept that inside? Robin knows how hard it is for him to get close to people, really close. How hard it is for him to trust. And now she knows some of the reasons for that. Can she really do this? Whatever happens, now is the time to be honest.

"Yeah, Barney…" She says, "Yeah, you might. And I'm just as likely to screw up. Because I don't know how this works! And maybe we'll both go out in a blaze of glory. But… oh god!" It frustrates her how angry she feels suddenly - at herself, at the world. Barney's fingers tighten on her hip and he nods, as if willing her to go on. "But maybe… just maybe, we can find a way to make this work, you know?" She wipes her eyes, feeling a little foolish for blubbering like a girl. "Because in the cold light of day, the alternative is that we stop being friends, we let each other go, and we get hurt anyway. What's the worst that can happen, eh?" Her accent bleeds through a little as she rambles and she reaches out to poke him in the chest.

Barney laughs, bats her hand away, then kisses her fingers gently. "Canadian Harpy," he says. But he still looks sad, still looks worn out.

"You really need someone to look after you, don't you?" She blurts, not really knowing why. She expects him to snark back at her with an acid comment, to announce he's awesome and that he doesn't need anyone.

But he doesn't.

"I need… you…" He says, simply.

And, by god, she loves him.

*--*--*

A few days later, Robin wakes with a start, her fingers groping blindly across the cold, empty mattress beside her before her brain is awake enough to remember why Barney's not there.

It's weird how quickly she's gotten used to him being there. It feels strange to her to sleep with a person and not feel stifled.

But after a few nights they both agree that he needs to get home - sort out his meds, spend at least one night away from her. She doesn't want to be too… Clingy? That's a word she still finds difficult to ever consider being used to describe herself.

Still, it's dark and he's not there and she's cold and her phone is ringing. Robin answers it with a groan, still not quite awake. When she hears his voice her tired brain equates this to him being back in bed beside her (where he belongs because she wants a cuddle, damn it!) and not on the other end of the line, back at his place.

"Robin?" He says. He sounds weird.

"Barney?" She mumbles, not quite sure what's going on. Why's he calling her? She tries not to jump to the conclusion that something's wrong. She's not Ted. She's not Lily. She has to let him be himself. So, when he doesn't say anything, she keeps her voice light. "Is this a booty call?" She says with a chuckle.

"Maybe…" He answers. He definitely sounds wrong - kind-of hollow. She's not imagining it. But she presses on because she's sleepy and she likes the sound of his voice.

"Maybe? You got other options right now, hot stuff?" She's not jealous because she absolutely knows he's not out chasing tail right now. He's just… what? Wired? He's occasionally complained of insomnia but he's slept like a baby these past few days.

"Yeah," Barney laughs. "And I'm looking for a third. Interested?"

Robin laughs. "Is she hot, this imaginary date of yours?"

"Hah!"

"Barney, if you had a woman there you wouldn't be calling me…"

He goes silent for a bit.

"Look, okay…" She says, nervously. Maybe she's doing the wrong thing, here, but the fact is that he wouldn't have called her, not this quickly, not unless he needed her. "I'll give you the choice - you want to come over here or can I just talk dirty to you and then get some sleep?"

He laughs, a little more naturally. "I'll take the dirty talk. What are you wearing right now?"

"I'm not promising anything too steamy. I'm wearing flannel jammies.

"Killing the mood here, Scherbatsky."

"Barney…" She doesn't ask him if he's alright. She already _knows_ that he's not alright. But he can be a hell of a lot better and they've got to get through this. It's only the first step, after all.

"Yeah?"

She sighs. "I'll take off the jammies if you promise me you'll get into bed?"

He laughs. "Deal."

She wishes he was there, but instead, she helps him from afar, carefully easing him down from whatever dark place he'd landed himself in. She takes a deep breath and begins to speak.

It's going to be a long night.


End file.
